18 years later
by Amalia Fulghum
Summary: ch 19 up...finally
1. First Day of School

Did I know before it started? No, of course not. How could I? I mean, I suppose my mother knew about it, and of course my dad did, it being himself, but they never told me. Well, I guess I understand that. How could you tell a person something like that? If they had told me, I probably would have called the nice men in the white jackets to take them away. But they should have realized that while my father was, well, what he was, that there was a chance for me.  
  
"Jessi! Jessi, wake up," came an impatient voice next to my bed. I clenched my eyes shut even tighter and attempted to put the blanket over my head. Strong hands grabbed the blanket and whipped it clean off the bed. I cracked an eye to see who this madman was. Oh, just my dad. I giggled at the thought. I turned over, shutting my eyes again. A heavy sigh came from behind me.  
  
"Alright, I didn't want to do this, but you've pushed me to it," he said dramatically. I heard him stand up from the side of the bed and walk to the covered window. "In five seconds, I will open those blinds. Five, four, three..."  
  
"Noooooo!" I interrupted him. I jumped out of bed and threw my arms around him. Then, in a fake pleading voice, I said, "Please, anything but that!" Dad looked at me sternly for a moment, then broke the facade with a broad grin.  
  
"Okay, I won't subject you to such torture," he said dryly, "but get up. It's the first day of school, and you don't want to miss it." Yes, I do, I thought, but stumbled to the bathroom anyway.  
  
After a nice hot shower to wake my brain up, I felt a bit better. But it didn't thaw out that ice cube in my stomach caused by first-day-of-school jitters. I dragged my feet to the kitchen, trying to delay.  
  
"Good morning, hun," came a muffled voice. I peered through my glasses and over the counter to find my mom with a extra-large bag of pancake mix in one arm, cooking utensils in the other, and three cups sticking out of her mouth. I giggled and took the mix.  
  
"Thanks," she breathed after taking the cups out. "I wanted to have breakfast ready before you woke up, but..." she trailed off helplessly. My mother is one of those scatter-brained moms. People who know her, like me, think of her as one of the "It's the thought that counts" kind of people. I smiled and flipped a think-nothing-of-it gesture, taking out the milk and orange juice.  
  
"Hey, sport," said my dad, entering the room. He grinned. "Awake yet?" I grinned back, examining him. My dad was one of New York's top DNA scientists. But his major hobby, almost like a second job, was photography. My mom is a reporter and my dad sells pictures to the newspaper to go with her articles. My mom told me that she was very popular in high school; she has red hair, and is stunningly pretty. Which is why it's so strange that she married my dad. My dad is, how can I put this delicately, a complete nerd to the bone. The only thing he has going for him is that he isn't fat and he doesn't wear glasses. But he talks, acts like, and is a nerd. My parents are pretty cool I guess, at least everyone thinks they are because of my mom's job. I conveniently avoid the subject of my dad's real job, and just talk about his photography, which isn't as dorky.  
  
I thought about what he had said; "sport". I was actually quite the opposite, a scrawny, pale bookworm with glasses. My nose is always buried in a book thicker than my arm, and I don't have a lot of friends. In fact, I only have one close one. She's just as wacky as me, though crazy about theatre instead of literature. She's really into Shakespeare and she speaks with an expansive vocabulary. Which is why I like her. But back to the nickname "sport". It's rather ridiculous if you think about it; I don't play any sports, I sit out every day at P.E. on accout of my asthma. I am not athletic in any way, besides the fact that I am a bit taller than the other girls and I stand up straight, instead of doing the whole question mark posture. I shrugged it of, thinking it was just another dumb dad thing, and went on helping my mom with the pancakes.  
  
  
  
"Well, thank you ladies, that was lovely," said my dad after we were all through. He glanced at his watch. "Jessi, I believe if you don't leave right now, you will be late for school. If you want, I can give you a ride?" He raised an eyebrow at me and I bit my lip so I wouldn't smile. Last year, I went through a dumb little phase where I asked him to drop me off around the corner, if I let him give me a ride at all.  
  
"That'd be great, Dad," I replied. Then added, with dignity, "in front of the school if you don't mind." He was still laughing when I left the room to get my backpack.  
  
"Parker, Jessica!" barked Ms. Stanford, my new homeroom teacher. She was no more than five feet tall, slightly tubby, and wore glasses that looked like they came from the 50's.  
  
"Present," I replied, speaking louder than usual, since Ms. Stanford was hard of hearing. She moved on down the list and I leaned over to talk to my best friend, Gwen Fortunato. Well, all right, I'll be honest, her real name is Amanda Bradford, but she changed it because it wasn't theatric enough. I've only known her 4 years, and when I met her she introduce herself as Gwen Fortunato. So, that's who she is. Gwen is for her middle name, Guinevere, and Fortunato is her mother's maiden name. She is Italian- looking, except with green eyes, and her hair color changes every once and a while. For the first day of school, she had her natural black hair, with bright red streaks, bunched up at the back of her head and held with a clip, making it look spiky. She had her bangs parted off the right side of her head, with the bulk of it hanging dramatically over her left eye. She only wore eye make-up, but it was perfectly applied. Her wardrobe is unique and different, and always turns heads. Sometimes she's a bit melodramatic, but she always apologizes and makes up for it. And it's exciting to see what plan she'll come up with next to get into the movies for free. We are so different, sometimes I wonder why we're even friends. But since she doesn't show any signs of dumping me and moving on to better things, and I always have fun with her, I don't say anything. I have come to the conclusion that we complement each other. I tone her down and she puts some excitement into my life.  
  
"So, what's the deal with the first play of the year? Did you get your request yet?" I asked Gwen, not whispering, but talking quietly, since Ms. Stanford wasn't deaf. She nodded.  
  
"I've been suggesting they do Hamlet since freshman year, and they finally decided we're mature enough," she replied, surveying the class.  
  
"So, don't keep me in the dark, who are you trying out for?" I asked. She grinned at me.  
  
"Well, before, I wanted to be Ophelia," she began. She paused and looked seriously at me for measure. I kicked her lightly under the desk. She broke into another grin. "I think Hamlet's mother would be a more challenging role for me, though. More mature."  
  
"Yeah, you're right," I agreed. "You definitely need to be more mature." She narrowed her eyes at me, but smiled anyway. She started to say something I knew would be teasing, but was interrupted by Ms. Stanford.  
  
"All right, everyone," she said, a bit to loud. "Announcements! There was a fire in the gym so-" but broke off and scowled at the doorway. I glanced in that direction, and sat up straight.  
  
"Nicholas MacKenzie," she boomed. "You are late, mister. Take a seat, if it suits your fancy." He strolled over to an empty seat next to a few of his friends snickering and congratulating each other on being of the male gender. Nick MacKenzie was the most gorgeous guy I had ever seen. Black hair, grey eyes, olive skin; my dream boy. But I never had a chance. He was one of the "special people", the preps, the popular group. I was so unknown that no one even had a chance to label me. I slouched in my chair and turned back to Gwen. She was looking at me sympathetically. I frowned, and bit down the ton of cynical remarks rising to the surface. I always thought, never spoke.  
  
"Stop," I said, attempting to smile. "Don't feel sorry for me. I'm a big girl, I don't need anyone." She raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. The bell rang; I gathered my things and dragged myself to History class.  
  
I ended up having Algebra 2 and P.E. with Nick. During P.E., I sat in the bleachers, envious of everyone climbing the rope and playing three-on-three basketball. I had never done that stuff. Asthma was like a high brick wall that I slammed into every time I tried to run or do anything athletic, while I saw everyone else leap over it with ease. I glared at Katelyn Faith in the corner, playing volleyball and complaining about a chipped nail. How could she complain? About anything? Didn't she realize how good she had it? It was almost sickening, the way that crowd took themselves for granted. Suddenly, I wanted to join the track team, the basketball team, anything, and prove that I could be better than them. My spirits fell. What was I thinking. I could never do any of that stuff. I grit my teeth together, resenting everything about me. I barely noticed my breathing getting more shallow, more rapid every second. I was being smothered. I looked around, saw Katelyn and her friends looking at me. When they saw me looking at them, they looked away, giggling. I saw Katelyn say something to the other girls, and they burst into too loud giggles and squeals. I had to get out of there. I stood up and ran to the door, dry-eyed. I never cried in public. Which was why I had to get to the bathroom. I staggered into the hall and headed in that direction, when I realized I was having an asthma attack. I changed my course, wheezing, so that now I was going toward the nurse's office, where my emergency inhaler was kept.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Were you trying to do P.E. again?" demanded Mrs. FitzPatrick, the school nurse/receptionist.  
  
"No, Mrs. Fitz, " I replied, hiding a smile. The bell rang for the end of P.E., and I hopped off the table in the nurses office. "Just a little first- day-of-school stress. I'm fine now."  
  
"Oh, all right," she said, glancing at the line of students at the door, already "sick" of school. I crept out the door as a freshman complained innocently of stomach trouble, and headed to fourth period.  
  
  
  
The bell rang, signaling the end of the the first day of school. I shifted into my backpack and met Gwen at our lockers. Homeroom was the only class I had with her, but we had managed to get lockers side by side.  
  
"So, how was the rest of your day?" she asked, a malicious glint in her eyes. I smiled wryly at her, knowing what she really meant was "Did you have any other classes with lover boy?"  
  
"It was fine," I replied. She elbowed me. "And, two, besides homeroom, if you must know," I added. She sqealed, attracting startled looks from passing students. She ignored them and grinned at me gleefully.  
  
"So, maybe this is your year!" she whispered, as if it were gossip everyone wanted to know. I gave her a Look.  
  
"Gwen, I highly doubt it, and you know that's what you think too," I said, scowling. She made an annoyed sound and rolled her eyes, as though she knew there was no hope for me.  
  
"Jessi, Jessi, Jessi," she started, shaking her head. I sighed heavily, but she ignored me and went on with her lecture. "That's your problem! You are way too pessimistic. You need to be confident, outgoing. And you need to build your self-esteem a little," she added. You looked me up and down, and I squirmed uncomfortably. "Maybe you need a make-over." I glared at her, remembering the last time Gwen Fortunato tried to give me a make-over, and thought of the many sardonic things I could say in response to that, but of course said nothing. I looked horrible in blue eyeshadow and red lipstick. Apparently, Gwen remembered too, because she made a face. "Or we could just work on the self-confidence thing," she said reassuringly. With timing that would be funny if I wasn't in a bad mood, Nick MacKenzie walked by. I froze and clamped my mouth shut, gritting my teeth together. He disappeared through the exit at the end of the hall and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I turned to Gwen and found her looking at me with pity. I shut my locker and shoved my books into my bag. I turned to leave and bumped into Katelyn Faith, the prettiest and preppiest girl in school.  
  
"Watch it, freak!" she said rudely, and pushed pashed me. I made a face at her back and grit my teeth to stop the sarcasm fighting it's way to the surface. If I said half the things that went through my brain, I thought, I would get into so much trouble. Katelyn was, obviously, going out with Nick MacKenzie. Of course. I had learned over the years that perfect people travel in packs. Sharing their beauty, silently excluding the rest of the world. I turned back to Gwen, who was groping for something sympathetic to say.  
  
I glanced at the door that Nick had left through. "Come on, my dad's waiting," I muttered, and set off in the opposite direction. 


	2. Happens to everyone, right?

"So, how was your day?" asked my mom. We were eating McDonald's on account of my mom forgot dinner again. I grumbled something incoherent about it being fine. "Anything exciting happen?" she asked, making a last stab at conversation. I had refrained from telling my parents about the asthma attack. It would only make them worry. I shook my head and stuffed the last of my Big Mac into my mouth. I chugged the last of my Coke, collected all of my trash, and got up from the table.  
  
"I'm gonna go read for a while," I muttered, shuffled to my room.  
  
After washing my face, brushing my teeth, and getting into my PJ's, I snuggled into my quilt and opened my current book, White Oleander. Gwen read it and wanted to see the movie, so I decided to do the same, having a habit of always reading the book, if there was one, before the movie. I had been reading for about an hour when I felt a prick and a sharp pain on the underside of my wrist. I looked, bewildered, at where it hurt and found a humongous (well, I thought so at the time) spider. I gave a loud yelp and jumped out of bed, flinging the ugly thing against the wall. My mom and dad burst through the door with alarmed looks on their faces.  
  
"What? What happened?" asked my dad, looking around my room frantically. I shook my head, suppressing a smile. My parents get so worked up over things.  
  
"Just a spider, dad," I said, pointing to the now deceased creature on the floor. He squatted and peered interestedly at it.  
  
"Fascinating," he muttered. I snorted.  
  
"Dad," I began, rolling my eyes. "I have no problem with what you do for a living. But please don't observe your specimens on my floor." He grinned. "Ok, one sec," he replied, rushing out of the room. "Don't move it!" I heard him shout. I snorted again. As if I would touch the bloody thing. I glanced at my mom, who was smiling fondly at some thought in her head.  
  
"That's how I first met your father you know," she said confidingly. I sighed mentally. Oh, great. I was dreading this moment. She continued. "We were on a field trip, and he took my picture next to one of the spiders, for the school newspaper. There were fifteen cases, supposedly with fifteen spiders, but one was missing." Her face clouded over, but the look disappeared when my dad came back into the room, holding a piece of paper and a Tupperware container. He scooped the spider up with the paper and plopped it into the container. My mom made a noise of disgust. My dad looked up, then at the dead spider, then sheepishly at my mom.  
  
"Sorry, hun," he said. She waved him off.  
  
"It's OK. I was going to through that thing away anyway," she replied, wrinkling her nose. I frowned jokingly and put my hands on my hips.  
  
"You guys are worried about the Tupperware while I'm standing here in pain?" I said, grimacing theatrically and cradling my wrist. My mom rushed to me and put an arm around my shoulder.  
  
"You're hurt, baby? Here, let mommy see," she said, taking my hand. I giggled and pulled my arm back.  
  
"I was just kidding. It's just a spider bite. You guys are so gullible," I said. "I'm not gonna die from a little bite," I added. My mom objected and made to take my wrist for a closer look.  
  
"She's right, dear," my dad put in. "It's not poisonous. It's just a little- " I cut him off before he could give us the Latin name and web-spinning style.  
  
"OK, parents, if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to Astrid's new foster home?" I said, hustling them out the door. "Don't worry. If my spider wound starts to fester, I'll call you."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
It was around three o'clock in the morning when I woke up in a cold sweat. I couldn't tell what was wrong with me, I just didn't feel right. I rolled over onto my right side, intending to ignore it and go back to sleep, but when I flopped onto my right arm, I almost cried out. A bolt of pain shot up my arm and made my whole body shudder. My other side felt strange too. I felt very light-headed and not well at all. I tried to get up to go to the bathroom, but only succeeded in sitting up before I passed out.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Sweetie? Jessi, wake up! You're going to be late," said a voice. It sounded slightly muffled. I opened my eyes with a struggle. I was lying on my left side with my feet hanging off the bed. I turned my attention to the voice. It was my mom, outside my door. It sounded as if she had left to do something for the moment. I groped on my bed-table for my glasses and put them on, standing up. I stretched and groaned, my back cracking from last night's sleeping position. I was going to have to wait until after school for my shower; I was already late. I looked into the mirror and frowned. It was blurry. I squinted and instinctively took my glasses off. I saw everything clearly, as if I had 20/20 vision. I put the glasses on again. Blurry. I took them off and set them on my dresser. Strange. I stumbled to the bathroom, rubbing a hand over my eyes.  
  
After splashing my face and brushing my teeth to get rid of mouth fuzziness, I returned to my room to get dressed. I glanced out my window. It was a sunny day, and would probably get hotter. I searched through my closet and found some jeans, a tank top, sweat jacket, and sneakers. I changed into this glamorous (Ha.) outfit and surveyed myself in the mirror attached to my closet door. I froze. I looked different. My arms were bigger, more muscular. I had always been scrawny, but now I had muscles. What the-? I thought. I lifted up the front of the tank top and made a sound of disbelief. I felt a smile slowly growing on my face as I poked and prodded the rock hard abs I had somehow attained overnight. I giggled nervously. How did this happen? I shook my head and reached for the brush. This was unbelievable. How could I be flabby and skinny one day, and the next morning have abs of steel? I was grinning for ear to ear. I threw my hair into a ponytail and skipped to the kitchen.  
  
"What's got you so giddy?" asked my dad, taking a sip of coffee. I plopped into a chair next to him. He poured some Cheerios and milk and slid it over to me. I thanked him and took a spoon. I shoved the cereal down my throat in record time and stood up, placing the spoon lightly on the table. It was stuck to my hand. I stared at it. I tried to shake it off, but it was stuck there, on the palm of my hand. I pried it off and it flew across the room, hitting the wall with a twang. Orange juice squirted out of my dad's nose and mouth. I giggled and put a hand over my mouth. "What was that Jessi?" asked my dad slowly, juice dripping from his chin. He had a weird look on his face. "Must have been glue or something sticky on the table," I mumbled, suppressing a smile. He shook his head, as though brushing away a bug. He wiped his mouth and blinked a few times, but seemed distracted. "You didn't answer my question. Usually I have to drag you to school, today you're, well, frolicking," he commented, wiping up the mess with a napkin. He was silent for a few moments, but his eyes were open wide.  
  
"Nothing," I replied, frowning at him. "And I am not frolicking." Something I did had upset him. I shoved a piece of toast in my mouth, ignoring it. "Can we get going? I'm gonna be late." I had to talk to Gwen.  
  
  
  
I met Gwen at our lockers, but didn't get a chance to tell her my strange news. When I spotted her, she had her back to me, digging through her locker. I tapped her on the shoulder.  
  
"Hey!" I said, ready to tell her to squeeze my biceps. "You'll never guess what-" but I got no farther. Gwen turned to face me and I almost gasped. Instead of her usual suave, perfect appearance, her eyes were puffy, her mascara running, and a tissue clutched in her right hand.  
  
"What happened? What's wrong?" I asked, putting an arm around her shoulders. She let out a sob, but sniffed and fought for control of her emotions.  
  
"It's Papa," she began, then started bawling her eyes out. I patted her on the back and led her to the ladies room, making soothing noises and trying to get her to calm down.  
  
"Ok, now tell me what happened to Papa," I said, handing her a wet paper towel. She took it gratefully and began fixing her disheveled appearance.  
  
"He had a stroke," she said shakily. 'Papa' was Gwen's grandfather. They were very close, and I liked him a lot too.  
  
"Oh, no," I said sympathetically. "Is he going to be OK?" Gwen shrugged.  
  
"He's in a coma right now," she replied, her lower lip trembling. She bit it stubbornly and began taking out her make-up utensils. Within seconds, she looked beautiful as usual, with only the slightest sign of puffiness around the eyes. The bell rang.  
  
"I'm sorry," I said sincerely. "Let's go to homeroom." I had completely forgotten about my news.  
  
I realized I had forgotten to get anything from my locker, so I had to leave Gwen and run back. I tried the combo and it didn't work. I was becoming frantic. I knew there was only about thirty seconds left until the tardy bell, and I had never been late to a class in my life. I tried and retried the combination, but it just wouldn't click. I twisted the lock until all the correct numbers were entered and pulled. Nothing happened. I lost my temper and yanked as hard as I could. The whole lock came off. I stared at the twisted metal and assorted springs sitting in my palm. How the hell had I done that? I opened the locker slowly and pulled out my books, feeling strangely detached. I, Jessica Parker, the nerdiest weakling in the whole school, had ripped a lock clear off with one pull. I stared at the lock in my hand, completely useless. I hooked it onto the locker with difficulty, finding it dimly amusing, and turned to walk back to homeroom. I was snapped out of my stupor by quizzical grey eyes, belonging to none other than Nick MacKenzie. I blinked stupidly at him and groped for an explanation. The last thing I needed was for the preps to know who I was because I was a freak.  
  
"I, ah, I was just-" I stuttered, but he put a hand up to stop me.  
  
"I saw," he said quietly, not taking his eyes off mine. I couldn't think of anything intelligent to say, so I remained silent, our eyes still locked together. The bell rang, making me jump. I looked around embarrassedly and pushed invisible hairs behind my ears. Nick looked around.  
  
"You're in my homeroom. Let's go," he said, taking my arm. He paused and looked back at me, squeezing my arm slightly. He frowned, but shook his head and let go. I trotted up to his side and walked in step with him. He cocked his head at me.  
  
"How did you do that?" he asked me with a suspicious look.  
  
"Do what," I said unconvincingly, avoiding his gaze. He grinned wryly at me.  
  
"You know what. That new way of opening a locker? And going from, ah, you know...to Xena warrior princess, overnight?" he replied. I shrugged, hiding a smile at the visual that came to mind at the Xena remark. Me in leather. I almost laughed out loud. Instead, I answered.  
  
"I honestly have no idea. I just woke up this morning and... well..." I trailed off helplessly. I don't know why, but I knew that he wasn't going to tell anyone, or think I was scary. We were silent for a moment, and I was walking in step with him, fighting the urge to sprint to homeroom.  
  
"You're in two other of my classes," Nick said suddenly. I nodded. "Math and P.E. You're really smart, I don't know why you're in that dumb class," he went on. I didn't know what to say again, so I shrugged.  
  
"You'd be good at school too if you'd show up to class on time," I replied tartly, forgetting for a moment that this was the guy I had worshipped since 9th grade. He laughed surprisedly, and I turned red. He glanced appreciatively at me.  
  
"We've been at school together since 9th grade and I've never heard you say more than two words," he said, still chuckling. We reached the classroom and I stood beside Nick, grateful that I wouldn't have to go through Ms. Stanford's wrath alone.  
  
"MacKenzie!" she shouted, looking slightly apoplectic. I glanced at Nick, who looked rather bored. "It is only the second day of school and you are dangerously close to detention, young man." Her eyes flickered to me and she did a double take. She grabbed her roll sheet, shaking her head. "I would expect this from him," she paused, nodding sharply at Nick, "but not from you, Ms. Parker. Take a seat, both of you." I walked calmly to my seat next to Gwen, enjoying the wide-eyed look on her face. Ms. Stanford called the class to order before I could explain anything. When the lunch bell rang, I met Gwen at our locker.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"What happened?!" Gwen asked, grabbing my arm and leading me toward the cafeteria. She frowned and her jaw dropped. She squeezed my arm slightly and looked at me, thoroughly confused. I giggled and almost let myself go hysterical, but instead took a deep breath and grinned widely. "It's not just that you were late, but that you walked in late with Nick MacKenzie," she said, still astonished. We sat down at our usual table in the corner, me with a soda from home, because there wasn't a machine at school, and money to buy lunch, Gwen with sushi and lemonade. I nodded, and proceeded to tell her about my locker incident and the walk with Nick, conveniently leaving out the only thing I couldn't possibly explain, my ripping the lock off. When I was finished, she just sat there with her mouth open. "You have never even said something that sarcastic to me." She looked at me slyly, and nudged me in the ribs. "Didn't I say this was your year?" I rolled my eyes. "And by the way, did I mention you are lookin' buff today!"  
  
"I know, it's weird," I said, examining my biceps. I held them out for her to squeeze. She did, and giggled. "I woke up this morning, put on my glasses, and everything was blurry. I took them off, and it was clear. Kinda creepy," I ended, my skin prickling with goosbumps. Not because I was cold, but because something very strange was happening in my head. Like a memory, I "saw" someone trip and his lunch tray go flying. I saw Nick MacKenzie, standing directly in the line of fire and get grape juice and mashed potatoes spilled all down his front. He looked mortified, an emotion I had never seen on that face. I tried to shake the strange and unwelcome feeling, but it sat there like pot roast for dinner that you know you will have to eventually eat. I pushed away my Coke and got up suddenly. I frowned.  
  
"What are you doing?" she asked. "Oh, buying lunch, well, hurry back, I want to hear more about your day." I stumbled away, blinking stupidly at the continuous picture in my mind. I joined the line of students waiting patiently for the line to move forward. I remembered my dad saying something about "cows" when we went shopping for Christmas gifts, standing in lines out the door and huddling together for warmth. I saw a latecomer out of the corner of my eye and turned to see who it was. The wave of a premonition came over me, stronger than before, as I recognized it to be Nick. I also saw the guy in my dream, the memory of something that I had never really saw. As though in slow motion, the guy turned to walk out the door, still laughing and talking with his friend, not seeing who was in front of him. Nick, who was searching for his group of friends, hadn't seen the person about to crash into him. I stared, wide-eyed, at what was happening before my eyes. Without thinking, I shoved through the people who had formed a line behind me, moving more quickly and deftly than I had thought possible. Nick saw me coming toward him and smiled with recognition. I didn't smile back, intent on my mission. I reached him and jerked him forward. He tripped slightly, but caught his balance.  
  
"Hey, what the -," he started to say. I vaguely saw over his shoulder, the guy tripping, his tray flying across the threshold of the cafeteria. I realized that I was still holding onto Nick's jacket, a bit closely. I let go, finally coming down to earth. He turned around in time to see the tray crash against the wall, the guy get up and brush himself off, still laughing with his friend. He stared at the food splattered on the wall for a few moments, realizing that I had just saved him from public embarrassment. He groped for words. Katelyn was suddenly at his side, her arms around his neck, all concerns and sympathy.  
  
"Oh, Nick are you all right?" she asked, making her lips pout, something I had never bothered to learn. "Come sit down. Jay brought Pepsis today." He resisted her for a moment, still trying to say thank you. Suddenly, the scene was making me sick. I could no longer stand her graceful, flawless arms stroking the edge of his jacket, the acrylic nails toying with the zipper. I stared into Nick's eyes, silently questioning him. How can you stand her? I asked him. As though he had heard me, his cheeks turned slightly pink. He turned his eyes away. You wouldn't understand, he replied silently. "Thanks," he muttered. I turned away, quite rudely, but I couldn't stand it anymore. I resumed my place at the back of the line and heard them walking away. Her fake concern, the click of her platform shoes on tile. It wasn't herself exactly that repulsed me. It was the thought that deep inside, I wanted to be her. She was the special person, the beautiful one, the one everyone else worshipped. I envied her, though I knew I shouldn't. She had no brains, no substance to her life. But she also had the body, with a flat stomach and perfect tan. Well, I had the flat stomach thing down, I thought ruefully. I would show all of them, I retorted stubbornly. I would be the one on Leno, talking about my latest novel, while she watched me on a 58-inch television with her drunk husband and five kids. I would be the one envied. I got my lunch, not paying attention to what it really was, paid for it, and walked back to where Gwen was sitting. She spread her hands out on the table as I picked at my half- pizza, half-grease.  
  
"Did I just see, what I think I saw?" she asked, staring at me with wide green eyes. "You just saved Nick MacKenzie's life!"  
  
"You're over exaggerating again, Guinevere," I said grumpily. I saw her cringe. She hated that almost as much as Amanda.  
  
"Ooh. Touché hun," she replied appreciatively. I smiled slightly. She let it go. "So. What do you want to do this weekend?"  
  
I shrugged, and she went off in a long list of movies she had been dying to see, things she had to do at the mall. Some days Gwen Fortunato could really get on my nerves, but right now, I needed her to talk. To fill the silence that was a reminder of my lack of social, well, lack of social anything. My eyes drifted across the room, looking at the students laughing and chattering. Were they trying to fill the emptiness too? Every once in a while, I would make eye contact with someone. Someone who noticed the change in my appearance, or was just randomly staring. They all averted their eyes embarrassedly. My gaze was drawn to that of Nick MacKenzie. He didn't look away though. Oddly enough, I wasn't embarrassed, didn't pretend that I wasn't looking at him. He raised a can of Pepsi, silently toasting, offering apology and thanks. I held up my Coke, smiling slightly. I forgave him. Gave him a chance to make a new impression, correct the one of snobby popular jock with the 'I'm-better-than-you' attitude. I found it a bit strange that he would give me the time of day, that he cared what I thought of him. The bell rang, and I looked at Gwen, who was still chattering away about her plans for the weekend. I dumped my barely touched lunch and walked tiredly to fifth period. This teen stuff was making me very weary lately. 


	3. New Jessi?

I met Gwen again after sixth, at our lockers as usual. She resumed her ranting about the weekend as I gathered the ton of books I needed for everyday homework. I wasn't really listening, but I noticed that she was suddenly quiet. I turned to her.  
  
"Jessi, what happened to your lock," she said, rather than asked. I shrugged.  
  
"Guess I need a new one," I said noncommitally, trying not to make it a big deal. She shook her head.  
  
"Something strange is going on here," she said darkly. "And I intend to find out what it is." There was a long silence. I giggled, breaking the mood. She scowled at me but then broke into a toothy grin.  
  
"Nothing's different," I said, trying to convince myself as well as my best friend. "Scout's honor." I put my hand on my locker to close it, and turned to leave. But my hand was still on the locker.  
  
"Jessi?" asked Gwen quizzically. I tried to pull it off, but it was stuck. iJust like the spoon, said a nagging voice in my mind.  
  
"Yes?" I said, trying to look inconspicuous. Which usually wasn't a problem, since no one paid any attention to me, but now I was attracting strange stares from passing classmates. I felt my cheeks burning.  
  
"Um, Jessi, what is going on-" Gwen started to say, but was cut off when I yanked suddenly and loudly. My hand came free. I stumbled backwards, right into Katelyn Faith; I grabbed a nearby doorknob and steadied myself. Unfortunately for Katelyn, there was nothing for her to grab onto. She fell down hard, taking down two of her entourage with her. She got up in a huff, breathing heavily as if she had just run around the school.  
  
"What is wrong with you?!" she screeched, tossing her hair over her shoulder like I had seen people do in movies.  
  
"It was an accident," I managed to get out before she went off on another insult-filled rampage.  
  
"What's going on here?" came a voice over her shoulder. She turned around and I saw Nick MacKenzie coming toward us. Oh great, I thought. And so the third stooge arrives.  
  
"That, that, iidiot, totally knocked me on the floor!" she said, outraged, while still managing to stick out that pouting lip.  
  
"I tripped, it was an -" I tried to say, but she interrupted me again  
  
"Why don't you just watch where you're going, you clumsy freak," she snapped, doing an expert hair-flip.  
  
"Kate, just calm -" said Nick, but he was interrupted. By me.  
  
"Is that the only thing you can come up with?" I said suddenly, surprising everyone, even myself. I should have stopped and walked away. But for some reason, I didn't care anymore. Who cares what happens to my reputation? What reputation did I have in the first place? I glared at her and went on, looking her straight in the eye. "iFreak this, and ifreak that, I mean, I knew you were simple-minded, but I thought even you had a bigger vocabulary than that." I couldn't believe what I was saying. Her mouth dropped open.  
  
"It was an iaccident. I iapologized. Or are those words to big for you to understand?" I said cruelly. She was speechless, and so was everyone else. I, on the other hand, was on a roll. I started to walk toward her, and she backed up. "Just because I don't have blonde streaks, or fake painted nails, or wear make-up, doesn't mean I'm something you can walk all over. Do you not understand, you can't just go on itreating people like that. One of these days," I paused, and she bumped into the lockers. She had nowhere to go; I was intimidating her, something she had obviously never experienced before. I loved every minute of it. I clenched my teeth together and spoke through them. "Someone. Might. Snap." Just as suddenly as I had begun, I stopped and backed away. I gathered up my books that I had dropped and turned my back on the now trembling Kate and astonished Nick.  
  
"Let's go," I said to Gwen. I didn't look back. 


	4. Things begin to unravel

**Ok, ok, I know this is really really short. I wrote it and was trying over and over to think of something to continue, but nothing fit, so I just ended it here. Don't worry, the next part will be really REALLY long.....hee hee....... sorry if you don't want to wait....... **  
  
Gwen had the try-outs for Hamlet today after school, so I went out front to wait for my dad alone. I was there for fifteen minutes before my dad called me on my cell phone and told me he couldn't pick me up ("Just made the most gratifying discovery, Jessi!"); I didn't mind. I was still hyped up on the adrenaline from my encounter, I needed to walk some off. As I walked along the street toward my house, I thought of what I had done. Something inside of me had woken up, something buried deeper than I could guess. But it was still there. I felt like a whole new person. I was so wrapped up in my exhilaration, I almost didn't notice the deja vu feeling come over me again. I slowed my pace a bit, staring at the ground as I walked. I had the feeling of someone shoving me to the ground, taking my backpack, and running. I felt the fear, the small scrape on my elbow from the fall. Moved by instinct, I whipped around to face a man standing within two inches of me, taken aback by my sudden movement. His surprise dissipated quickly, though, and I stepped backwards in horror as he advanced on me.  
  
"All I want's the bag, kid," he growled. I shook my head, my mouth open in terror. I followed the second instinct I had that day; I turned on my heels and ran. I looked behind me. That was a mistake. The mugger obviously didn't expect me to run, but he caught himself and leaped at me. He hit my legs and I fell on the sidewalk. I scrambled up and face the man, legs spread in a crouching manner. He made a grab for me, and I kicked at him. He snatched his arm back and looked at it in astonishment, then with his face contorted in pain. I stared at his arm. It was bent at an odd angle. I came to my senses, shook my head, and ran as hard as I could. I looked back and saw the man leaning against the wall, slowly getting smaller. I turned the corner onto what I vaguely recognized as my street and stopped running. I stood with my eyes wide open, my cheeks flushed with the exercise. At that moment, I realized with a shock what I had just done. First, the image of the man's arm came into my head. Then, the sensation of wind in my hair, my legs working as fast as they could. I had been running. And I wasn't gasping for air, no asthma. I wasn't even out of breath. I felt like bouncing off the walls. I stretched my legs, attracting strange looks from passer-by, but I didn't care. The muscles in my legs felt wonderful. There was a burning feeling, but it wasn't bad. I remembered feeling this way, a long time ago. I walked home with a huge grin on my face.  
  
  
  
I absentmindedly did homework until five o'clock, when my mom got home. She looked troubled; I was sure it was the story she was working on. She is a very compassionate person, and tends to get caught up emotionally in certain articles. I asked her what was wrong. She looked at me strangely, as though seeing me as a different person. I remembered my new and improved stomach and biceps, and overall appearance, and blushed slightly.  
  
"Nothing, dear," she replied distantly, though I knew there was. I also knew it was big, and that it had to do with me. It was sort of like what happened at lunch, though not exactly. It was as though someone had told me, but at the time I hadn't been listening and now I couldn't remember. I sat there for a few moments, desperately digging through my mind, trying to find the remains of a memory that wasn't there.  
  
"Jessi, has your father called since you got home?" asked my mom suddenly. I jumped, still deep in thought. I shook my head to clear it.  
  
"No, but he called me at school and said he wouldn't be able to pick me up," I said, clearing the table of my school things. "Something about a 'gratifying discovery.'"  
  
She had been rummaging through the cupboards for inspiration on what to make for dinner, but at this she jumped, and stared at me. "Oh, no," she whispered, putting her hand to her mouth.  
  
"Mom?" I said cautiously, coming up behind her. "What is it? What's the matter?" She moved away from me and started to put her jacket on.  
  
"Nothing dear," she replied. She was looking anywhere except at me. "I'll be back it a minute, I'm going to the store. Start making Sloppy Joes, would you? The mix is in there somewhere, and there's meat in the fridge." And she was out the door.  
  
I stood there for a few minutes before getting the ingredients out. This wasn't just some little thing. My mother was afraid of me. 


	5. And the truth shall?

**New chapter!!! Hehe, I know you've been waiting such a LONG time (hey, a week is long, right? :P) so, here it is! Sorry to have left you hanging on that last short one, but I have to admit, I had a little case of writer's block (and a BIG case of too-much-homework. But hey, what's new? It's a sophomore's life.) but that's over. Hope you like this one......:D P.S. "Alexis Deyaled and the Pompous Windbreaker" is a real story, hehe....one I wrote, I dunno, in the 7th grade? But anyway, plz don't ask me to put it up, lol, it's too embarrassing.**  
  
  
  
I left the pan full of savory Sloppy Joe meat on the stove. I didn't know how long my mom would be gone, or when my dad would get home. I finished my homework and put everything away. The silence was deafening. I got up and went to my room to get ready for bed, though I knew it was only a quarter to six. I tuned the radio to my favorite station, threw some pajamas on, and flopped onto my bed. Usually, I had too much to do, but right now, when I had all the time in the world, I could think of no distractions. I was alone with my thoughts. My horrible conclusions as to why my mother had just run away from me. And why all these strange things were happening to me. Struck with a sudden inspiration, I leaped off the bed and raced to the computer. I clicked away on the mouse until Word Perfect loomed before me on the screen. I inserted my floppy disk, safe-guarding everything I had written since before I could remember. I was comforted by the sight of dozens of different files, ranging from journals ("Jesi"s Jurnol: Pleze dont tuoch") to short stories ("Alexis Deyaled and the Pompous Windbreaker"). I smiled and opened a new file. Most people cried; I wrote. I poured my feelings out through my fingertips, tap-tap-tapping on the keyboard. I wrote a story about a depressed girl wandering through the halls in her school, no one noticing her, until the end where she remembered that she was dead and no one could see her anyway. I sat back, reading it over. Suddenly, the door opened behind me with a huge crack. I jumped and banged my elbow on the desk. I yelped and leaned over my arm, cradling the tingling bone. Eyes watering, I glared up at whoever had come in. It was my dad. I smiled through my pain, and was surprised to see my mom enter right behind him. She looked pale. My smile disappeared. The feeling was back again, even though she gave me a weak smile. I turned my eyes away, slightly abashed, and got up to help with Sloppy Joes.  
  
My dad took off his jacket and hung it up on the coat rack. My mom set the bag of hamburger buns lightly on the counter. I ripped open the bag violently and grabbed a bun, plopping the steaming meat on it rudely. I looked up at my parents. My mom was seated at the table and my dad standing behind her, his hand on her shoulder, with identical looks of half- frightened, half-pitiful fighting for control on their faces. I hated this. They wouldn't tell me anything, and yet acted like I knew, like there was a perfectly normal reason for the way they were acting. My lips tightened as I slammed the Sloppy Joe on a plate and got out a soda.  
  
"So, are you two going to tell me what's going on?" I said looking them in the eye. My mom looked up at my dad, and he looked down at her. They exchanged secretive looks.  
  
"No? Fine," I said shortly. I walked toward my room.  
  
"Jessi, hun, don't do that," said my dad, a pleading look on his face. I swirled around and glared at him. For a fleeting moment, I thought I might be acting unrationally. But when I caught sight of their faces again, I felt the anger well up.  
  
"Then tell me what the hell is going on!" I bellowed. "And don't you dare tell me it's nothing. I know it's not." I stormed over to the counter and threw the plate down. I was lucky Sloppy Joe didn't splatter everywhere. I saw my mom wince, and felt suddenly very tired and depressed.  
  
"If you're not going to say anything, just, let me go," I said lamely. I didn't know what else to say. They both looked so sad, almost disappointed. But I didn't know why. My dad looked at me helplessly. My emotions were on a rollercoaster, and I felt rage swell up again.  
  
"Why are you making this so hard?" I said, almost shouting. They looked away from me. I slammed my fist on the counter, venting anger. I stared, open-mouthed; everything happened so fast. A strange feeling came over my lower forearm. Something shot out of my wrist. Yes, that's right. Out of my wrist. It felt suddenly empty, like someone had removed a sliver of muscled the diameter of a shoelace. The feeling was fleeting though, steadily going back to normal. A white substance flew across the room, hit the wall, and stuck there, like at school when girls threw wet paper towels on the ceiling. I stared at it, horrified.  
  
"All right, Jess, let me explain exactly what is going on," said my dad calmly. He came toward me, but I moved sharply away from him. He stepped back, palms up. I shook myself out of my stupor and stared at him. I raised my eyebrows and crossed my arms.  
  
"Go right ahead," I said, calming down a bit. My dad took a deep breath and blew it out through pursed lips. He sat down and spread his hands on the table.  
  
"Was that the first time that's happened to you?" he asked bluntly. My eyes flew open in surprise, but I nodded. I looked down at my wrist. It felt normal again. I looked closely and saw that there was a tiny hole two inches above the pulse point. I looked up at him, bewildered. He ran his fingers through his hair.  
  
"Hmm....I don't know where to start..." he muttered.  
  
"The beginning's always a nice place," I said tartly, reverting back to my anger. Though, I hadn't meant to be that rude, but it came off that way, and my dad looked at me angrily. He started to say something, but stopped when my mom lay a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Just tell her, Pete," she said quietly. He nodded.  
  
"Right," he said formally. He looked me directly in the eye, making me squirm uncomfortably. "Jessi, I'm going to tell you a story. I want you to promise you won't say anything, you won't interrupt me at all, until I finish." I couldn't think of anything to say, so I just nodded.  
  
"Well, I suppose it all started senior year," he began, glancing wryly at my mom. She grinned back ironically. "I had a huge crush on your mom, though I suppose she's told you all about that?" I couldn't help wrinkling my nose. "Well, we were on a field trip, for science class. I was with Harry-" at this, I broke my promise.  
  
"Harry? Harry Osbor-," I blurted, gawking at him. He stopped me, sternly.  
  
"Jessica, you promised," he said, frowning at me. I nodded, biting my lip. "Yes, Harry and I were best friends back then. I was a geek, and he was a rich kid. None of the populars liked us very much." He paused and looked at my mom, smiling. "Well, almost none, I suppose. But, anyway, We were on a class field trip for science class, to see a study of DNA, in spiders. They were trying to make new hybrid spiders, I believe. That's the first time I met Harry's dad. Norman Osborn. A brilliant man, he was." His face clouded over, but he shook his head and went on. "Yes, well, while we were on the trip, Harry was trying to get me to talk to this one beautiful girl that I had had a crush on for years." He looked at my mom again, and I rolled my eyes. "Mary Jane Watson. But back to the field trip. I seem to remember, there were supposed to be fifteen spiders. Each spider had a different ability; jumping, carrying more than their own weight, spinning webs at super speed, climbing vertical surfaces." I got the shivers. Whatever had just shot out of my wrist looked eerily like a web. And I had been strong enough to break that man's arm that tried to mug me. I swallowed convulsively. My dad went on. "I mean, there were fifteen cases, but one was empty." I looked at my mom, remembering last night, she had told me that. "MJ pointed it out, and the tour guide said it must have been taken out for research. Well, the group moved ahead, and while I was trying to get the courage up to talk to your mother, I was struck with an idea. I asked her to pose next to the cases. 'For the paper,' I think I said. Man, I was such a nerd," he remarked, grinning. I started to say something, but he stopped me again, waggling an index finger in my face. "Nope, sorry, not done yet. While I was taking pictures, somehow a little spider crept up on my hand and bit me." I jerked. I was feeling that weird deja vu again. A spider had bit him? I remembered the spider biting me in my room. This was getting a little weird.  
  
My dad took a deep breath. "Apparently, as I reasoned out later, it was one of the spiders from the case, the missing one, supposedly taken out for research. When I got home that night, I wasn't well at all. I felt sick, my head felt like it would explode, my eyes hurt to see light. I collapsed on the floor. I'm probably lucky I didn't die right there." Speaking of feeling sick, I wasn't feeling too good right now either. I tried to take deep breaths, but it wasn't working. Was my dad saying, what I thought he was saying? "When I woke up, I put my glasses on. But I didn't need them." This was too much for me. I stood up suddenly, almost tipping the table over. I backed up, frightened, and shook my head.  
  
"I know where you're going with that," I said shakily, grasping onto the edge of the counter. I shook my head again. "You're trying to tell me that you were Spiderman." Spiderman was the only 'superhero' the city had ever had. He had fought numbers of criminals and bad guys, somehow flying through the air, though no one had ever figured out how. And now my dad, dorky old Peter Parker, was sitting in front of me, trying to tell me he was Spiderman, way back then? I didn't know why they were doing this, maybe for some sick humor, but I wasn't buying it. I glared at them both.  
  
"Dad, I think maybe you need some therapy," I said bluntly. My dad blanched and stared at me. One of those, self-esteem, 'Dr. Phil' types of people, to, um, help you find your identity, or something," I added, wrinkling my nose. He stared at me for a few seconds, then burst out laughing. I glanced, bewildered, at my mom, as my dad threw his head back and laughed maniacally. I made to leave the room, but my hands were stuck to the counter. My nostrils flared angrily as I tried to pry myself off the counter. My dad stopped laughing and looked at me seriously. I yanked and my hands came off with a smacking sound. I crossed my arms and stared back at him, face burning. He looked at me skeptically.  
  
"How do you explain that?" he asked smugly. I shook my head.  
  
"I don't know, but you are not Spiderman, and I am not, erm, Spider.....girl...." I trailed off helplessly. This was too weird. My dad couldn't be Spiderman! It wasn't believable. My mom came over and put an arm around my shoulders.  
  
"Hun, let me tell you what had me so freaked out today," she said. "Your father called me at work and told me about....this, dealing with you, and said that he was observing the same symptoms in you that he had when he first got bit. And right now as a matter of fact," she added. She gave me a final squeeze and let go, sitting back down. She looked suddenly very tired. Having two spider hybrids in the house obviously wasn't easy for- wait! What was I saying? I was NOT a spider! I shook my head.  
  
"There's.... I mean, it can't.....it makes no sense! This kind of stuff doesn't happen in real life! There's no proof!" I blurted. I thought dimly that in normal conditions, I'd probably be having an asthma attack right now. I shook my head again.  
  
"Now there's where you're wrong, Jess," said my dad excitedly. I looked at him, suspiciously. He grinned encouragingly, and bent his knees slightly, arms out from his body only a bit. My mom looked at him wearily.  
  
"Now, Pete, just, don't make a-" she began, but was cut off by a sudden whipping sound. I watched as my dad pressed both his ring and middle finger toward his wrist. The same stuff that had flown out of my wrist sailed across the room, latching onto the remote control. My dad held on to his end of the, er, whatever it was, with the same hand, and deftly yanked it back, catching it neatly in his hand. I stared at him with my mouth open, and he looked back pleasantly.  
  
"Mess," finished my mom, putting her hand to her head. I was seeing black dots, floating before my eyes.  
  
"Proof," he said smugly. But the grin disappeared. "Jess? Jessi? Oh jeez," and that was the last thing I heard before hitting the floor. 


	6. Accepting the Facts

**OK, new chapter, and out comes my theory. Here are the answers to a lot of questions. Enjoy :P **  
  
  
  
"Honey? Jessi, are you all right?" The voice came from far away, but was coming closer with a painful reality. My eyes fluttered open and the faces of my parents loomed before me. I smiled, and my mom smoothed back my hair. I glanced around. I was in my room, tucked soundly into the quilts of my bed. So that ridiculous 'Spiderman' stuff, it was all in my head? I chuckled softly. Just my writer's imagination acting up. Wouldn't THAT make a funny story. I looked back at my parents, and my smile grew bigger.  
  
"What's up?" I asked drowsily, closing my eyes momentarily. I felt, rather than saw, them exchange glances.  
  
"Er, you don't remember?" said my dad cautiously. I felt my smile disappear. "Hun, we were telling you about, mmphm, when you passed out." My eyes flew open. It WAS real! I sat bolt upright and threw the quilts off the bed. My mom and dad stood up to avoid being covered. I flew out of the room, stumbling with dizziness from getting up so fast. I kept shaking my head, not wanting to believe it. Every kid, at least once in their life, had dreamed of being a superhero. Well, I have to tell you, it's not that great. I heard my dad call from the hallway. I whipped around. He caught up to me and reached out, but hesitated and put his hand back to his side.  
  
"Jessi, please." I stood there, breathing heavily for a few moments. I saw the look in my dad's eye and my shoulders slumped. He was serious. This was real. I felt his arms come around me and I leaned into the embrace. This was really scary.  
  
"Jess, I don't know how to tell you this, except bluntly," came his muffled voice. I took a deep breath. "All those sixteen years ago, yes. I was Spiderman." I jerked, and he pulled me away from him. His hands on my shoulders, he stared straight into my eyes. "This is what I believe happened. When I was bit, the spider's venom somehow changed my DNA. When you were born, half of my DNA was passed down to you, right?" He raised an eyebrow in confirmation. I nodded, feeling very small. "Well, we figured you had a fifty-fifty chance of being like me. You showed no signs of it all through your infancy, so we figured you were perfectly normal. The other night, when that spider bit you? It's venom must have triggered your recessive genes, and now..." he trailed off, trying for 'rueful', but he couldn't hide his excitement. He was obviously looking at me as a person he could share the experience with. I took another deep breath and was silent for a few minutes. "I need to think," I said at last. "I'm going to bed. See you guys tomorrow." I walked to my room without another word.  
  
  
  
  
  
I sat on the edge of my bed, feeling thoroughly wretched. I hadn't gotten hardly any sleep last night, my head full of images from the past two days. I glanced at my clock. "6:30 am" it glowed flourescently. I took a deep breath. I didn't need ESP to tell me that my whole life was about to change. I tapped my foot impatiently. What are you dreading? asked a voice in my mind. I have no idea, I answered it curtly. And I didn't. Unable to sit any longer, I got up and started pacing, like a lion in a cage. I stopped suddenly and looked at my wrist. The hole, two inches up my arm, was still there, like a tiny pockmark. Curiously, I rolled up the sleeve of my favorite old-style baseball t-shirt and went out on my balcony. The sun was peeking shyly through the smog, growing bolder every second. I held out my arm. And stood there.  
  
I dropped my arm, feeling suddenly foolish. What was I doing? I must look like an idiot to anyone watching. Who's watching, Jessi? asked that voice again. It's six in the morning, genius. My mouth curled up into a quirky smile. Yeah, I thought. Who's watching?  
  
I held up my arm again, determined. I examined the hole thoughtfully, and pushed lightly on my palm. My head jerked back, narrowly avoiding being hit with white stringy stuff. I laughed nervously, then wrinkled my nose. There had to be a better way, a way to do it one-handed, and not look so stupid. I closed my eyes, trying to remember what my dad had done last night. He pushed his middle and ring fingers down on his palm, toward his wrist. I did the same. The white substance, which I now recognized to be a web, flew out of the hole with a zip! and landed on the building across from my balcony. I gaped at it, then my gaze slowly went to my wrist. I felt the smile growing on my face. I went back into my room, feeling extremely pleased with myself.  
  
There was a light tap on my door. "Jessi? You awake, hun?" came the muffled voice of my dad. I opened the door to find him and my mom looking very weary. My mom stifled a yawn and smiled droopily.  
  
"You don't look like you got much sleep, sweets," she said drearily. I raised an eyebrow ironically.  
  
"Oh, but you look beautiful, mother," I said, batting my eyelashes. She and my dad grinned at each other.  
  
"I take it you're not mad anymore?" he asked hopefully. I smiled.  
  
"Dad, I don't think I was angry," I said, shuffling my feet. "Just a bit...surprised, let's say. It's not every day your dad tells you he's Spiderman." "And it's not every day your daughter is reasonable enough to believe you when you tell her you're Spiderman?" he replied. There was a note of worry in his voice, though. I nodded slightly. I did believe him. He relaxed a bit.  
  
"Well, ah, you should get ready for school, I guess," he said awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. He massaged my mom's shoulders for an uncomfortable moment, then smiled at me and went back to his room. My mom smiled warmly at me, gave me a big hug, then shuffled behind him, yawning expansively. I closed the door and collapsed on my bed. What now? I thought, frowning. Well, whatever did happen, I had a guide. I stood up again and grabbed my robe, smiling at the thought that I wasn't in this alone. I glanced in the mirror and stopped. I felt the smile grow. And I had something else no one, not even perfect Katelyn Faith had. Super powers! I grinned one last time at my reflection, then headed to the bathroom to start a whole new day. 


	7. Did she really just say that?

I hopped out of my dad's blue Ford Focus and slung my bag onto my back. "Love you, Jess," came a happy voice behind me. I turned around, hitching my backpack higher, and smiled.  
  
"Love you too, dad," I said. I glanced up the steps of my museum-like high school and saw Gwen, looking very cold. "I gotta go. Gwen's waiting." I leaned in, gave him a peck on the cheek, and pulled back out, promptly smacking my head on the roof. I winced and said a few choice words unfit for any person's ears over the age of twenty. My dad looked at me, scandalized. I stood up straight, rubbing the back of my head tenderly. I laughed warily at my dad's stern expression.  
  
"Ok, ok," I said, palms up. "Sorry, dad. No more profanities." I grinned down at him and slammed the door. I waved cheerily, then ran up the steps to meet Gwen.  
  
She was glaring around at the students filing through the doors, but grinned when she saw me coming. As I got closer, I noticed she looked a bit wary, as though I were a bomb that could explode.  
  
"What?" I said suspiciously. She shrugged.  
  
"Nothing," she said, patting at her hair. "It's just, after yesterday..." She trailed off helplessly, staring at the ground. I groaned annoyedly.  
  
"Ah, jeez," I said, glaring at the nearest person. He jumped and hurried through the enormous double doors, glancing nervously over his shoulder. "Just because I defended myself, doesn't mean I'm the Incredible Hulk, you know." She laughed, but I could tell she was more than slightly relieved. We laughed and chatted on the way to the locker. Almost immediately after we reached our destination, Gwen latched onto my left arm so hard it was almost painful. My jaw dropped, indignant at being smacked so condescendingly.  
  
"What-" I started to ask, but she lifted the arm that wasn't attached to mine and pointed straight ahead. I looked down the hall and shivered. A group of preps were heading toward us, including Katelyn and Nick. I swallowed convulsively. I hadn't thought about what I would do after my encounter with Kate yesterday. She caught sight of me and hesitated slightly. Then, with a pretentious determination, she kept walking, swaying her hips a tiny bit more than usual. The group said their good byes and split up, leaving Kate and Nick standing together in the middle of the hall. With a haughty glance in my direction, she leaned up to the unsuspecting Nick, wrapping her arms around him, and planted her face on his. I tried not to look as they stayed that way for one, two, three minutes. Finally they stopped, but Kate kept her arms entwined in his. I shoved my books into my locker, replaced the twisted lock with a newly bought one, and slammed it shut. To my horror and disgust, my cheeks were burning fiercely. I glanced back at the two, and was welcomed by gloating looks from Kate. Nick looked down, caught sight of her looking at something, and followed her gaze to meet mine. I quickly averted it, color rising, and closed my lock with a snap. I muttered something unimportant to Gwen and we turned to leave. I glanced once more down the hall, and, if possible, turned even redder. Nick politely detached Katelyn from his neck and started walking toward me, leaving her standing there, mouth open in rage. I turned back to Gwen, intending to ignore him.  
  
"Jessica? Jessi, wait," came a deep voice behind me. I almost stopped, but grit my teeth and kept going. He was on her side, not mine, I told myself stonily. And if he was on mine, then he shouldn't be her boyfriend. I felt a hand tugging at my shoulder, and I whirled around. He stepped back, surprised at my sudden movement.  
  
"Yes?" I said politely, hiding any emotion. My color was receding to normal. He hesitated, then spoke boldly.  
  
"I'm sorry. For Kate," he said quickly, shoving his hands in his pockets. "She can be a little high maintenance sometimes." I snorted.  
  
"Thanks for the apology, but I wasn't looking for one from you," I said shortly, and turned around to continue walking. He trotted up beside me and stepped in my way, so that I had to stop again.  
  
"I really don't think you had to go that far though," he said, frowning at my rudeness. "Calling her dumb, and all that stuff?" I set my jaw and shifted my weight.  
  
"Oh, sorry. I thought I ended the conversation," I snapped, trying to move around him. He stepped in my way. "What?" I said, irritated. "Look, I don't know how you see her, or me for that matter, but she had it coming. That's what she got, for walking all over people. She's done it since forever, and she has absolutely no right to treat people that way. If you don't realize that, then you're nothing of what people think of you," I said, glaring at him. At any other time in my life, I would have loved for Nick MacKenzie to even look at me. But now, I just wanted to get away from him. I had chosen sides when I went off on Katelyn. And my side was the opposite of his. He stood there, just looking at me, mouth slightly open in surprise. I raised an eyebrow. To my immediate relief, the bell rang, and Gwen stepped in.  
  
"Oh! would you look at that," she said, laughing pompously. "The bell! We've got to get to class. Let's go, Jess," and with that, I was whisked away faster than Nick could step in front of me. I followed Gwen to our seats at the back of the classroom, avoiding Ms. Stanford's suspicious glare. As soon as we were seated, Gwen glared at me.  
  
"What the hell are you doing?" she inquired, putting her hands delicately in her lap. I gaped at her. As cynical and clever as she was, never had a profane word escaped from the lips of Gwen Fortunato. She arched an eyebrow at me.  
  
"What, um, what do you mean-," I spluttered, but she cut me off impatiently.  
  
"Don't give me that crap, Jess," she said seriously. "Why do you do that?" she asked angrily. "You have the hugest crush on someone, and yet you totally push them away. Nick was interested. He's right in front of your nose. If you had a little confidence, and let him get to know you, and showed a little interest, and didn't act like a pretentious bitch," she paused here to take a breath. I was speechless, jaw dropped to the floor. She took up her ranting again. "You would have him. Can't you see? He is not happy with Katelyn. Then again, no one within fifteen feet of her is precisely happy," she said, mouth quirking at the corner, "but he is just waiting for an excuse to break up with her. And move on to better things," she ended, giving me a pleading look. "Jessi, you've gotta have some courage. Don't be afraid of expressing yourself, of letting people know, that you've got a personality. And quite a feisty one at that," she added, winking at me. She was quiet for a moment. "Jess? Did you hear me?" She shook my arm slightly, and I pulled it out of her grip.  
  
"Yes, I heard you," I said quietly, and turned around to face Ms. Stanford at the head of the class. There were a variety of emotions surging through my body, and I didn't trust myself to say any more than that. I heard Gwen sigh, and her shifting into her seat. This was the first time I ever remembered fighting with my best friend. The fact that she was right didn't help the situation. Nick MacKenzie caught my eye walking in. He glanced at me, held my gaze for a few moments, then looked away contemptuously. I slumped in my chair, lying my head on my folded arms. I had also had a fight with a guy I wasn't even going out with. All due to this spider thing. Maybe it wasn't so great after all.  
  
  
  
  
  
The day went much like the last two, though more boring since no one was talking to me. I sat with my face in my hands for first and second period. When the bell rang to go to third, though, I was struck with an idea. I became more and more excited as I thought about it. I remembered running away from the mugger, not having an attack, not even being breathless. I made a decision. I would do PE today. I walked awkwardly into the locker room and to the teacher's office.  
  
"Yes, Miss Parker?" inquired Mrs. Lin from behind a Vogue magazine. Quite the untraditional PE teacher, she wore a three-piece woman's suit and pumps every day to class. She peered at me curiously. "Is there anything I can do for you?"  
  
"Ah, yes," I replied slowly. "I need some PE clothes." Her slanted eyes flew open in surprise.  
  
"But, I thought-" she sputtered, putting down the magazine, careful to keep its place. I put a hand up to stop her, and smiled as charmingly as I could.  
  
"I know, but don't worry," I said reassuringly. "I can do PE, no problem." She gave me a skeptical look, but complied.  
  
"All right," she said reluctantly, opening a file cabinet. She pulled out a red shirt and blue shorts, our school colors. I took them, thanked her, and was out the door before she could utter a protest. With little trouble, I found Gwen's PE locker and opened it. Relieved, I found her sneakers at the bottom. One good thing about our relationship, we wore the same shoe size, I thought pleasantly as I changed into the incredibly stupid looking clothes. I tied the sneakers and stood up. What now? I thought. I shoved my stuff into the locker and shut it. I crossed my arms self-consciously and walked into the gym. There were already a few people in the gym, chatting and laughing with people they knew, but they went silent when I entered. Everyone was staring at me, and I felt my face redden. As I looked around, I saw Nick MacKenzie and his crowd in their usual corner. He looked at me for a few moments, then started conversation with his friends again. This seemed to be the cue for everyone else, and the gym exploded with teenage voices. I felt my face going back to its normal shade of peachy cream, and I sat on the bench to wait for Mrs. Lin to get here. I watched the double doors, whistling to myself. I saw Katelyn come in, her mouth drop in angry surprise as she caught sight of me in PE clothes. She looked away, pretending to ignore me, and walked over to Nick. I braced myself for a wave of nausea at the scene about to happen, but when she tried to drape her arms around his neck, he pulled away and took a step back. I smirked to myself.  
  
"All right, class," came the echoing voice of Mrs. Lin. I stood up to join the students crowding around her. "We will be doing the physical testing today, starting with the rope climb. Line up," she barked abruptly, clapping her hands. I took a place near the front of the line, but behind Nick, Kate, and their friends. I saw Nick glimpse back curiously, but ignored it. I watched as most of the kids got a few feet up, then came back down. There were six people in front of me. First, Kate, then Nick, his friend Jay, and two people I didn't recognize. Kate climbed two hands up, then dropped quaintly on the mat, smiling prettily at Mrs. Lin, who made a note on her clipboard. Nick climbed three-quarters of the way up, then climbed back down. He flashed a grin at Mrs. Lin, who hid a smile, and made a note on the clipboard. Jay, Nick's best friend, was a big guy, and very good-looking. He had sandy blonde hair and greyish-blue eyes, and was around six feet tall. He was a football player, and had muscles and a six- pack showing even through the PE shirt. He climbed all the way to the top, within thirty seconds, rang the little bell at the top, and climbed back down. He flexed his biceps at Mrs. Lin, who made yet another mark on her mysterious clipboard. It seemed like the other two people took an eternity. They took almost minutes getting only half way up the rope, then climbing slowly down so as to not get any rope burns. Finally, it was my turn. 


	8. Gym Class

**Lol, sorry about that last one, I know it was an awful cliffhanger, it was all I could finish before that day was over, and I knew I hadn't done anything for this fic for a while.......apologies! :P hope ya like this one...and I hope it's not a cliffhanger...I tend to not realize that it is one until someone reviews it and curses me for it....**  
  
  
  
I rubbed my hands together and stepped up onto the giant falling pad. I heard titters of laughter and shot a sidelong glance to the back of the line, where Katelyn was whispering to her friends. She looked straight at me, eyes full of malice, and I turned around again. I smiled to myself at the image of her stricken face, mouth open in surprised horror. I gripped my hands on the rope, feeling butterflies. I looked up at the roof. There were criss-crossing steel beams, onto which the thick rope was attached. There was a tiny bell right next to it, with which one could show off one's rope-climbing abilities. I glanced at Mrs. Lin, waiting for the go-ahead. She held up her stopwatch, and I looked back up readily.  
  
"Go!" came her sharp voice, and I shot up the rope. It felt natural, like walking, or swimming. I had my right leg wrapped through the rope and my left hanging beside it. I used only my arms, and was flying upward. I reached the top within ten seconds, and was going so fast that I flipped over the beam, dangling from the opposite side. Still hanging onto the cold dusty steel, I poked the bell, glaring down mockingly. I swung onto the rope again and climbed down just as fast. When I was a little more than half way down, I let go of the rope and dropped the rest of the way, landing in a crouched manner. I stood up and grinned at Mrs. Lin. Her mouth was agape as she flicked off the stopwatch. She looked back at me incredulously, then at her clipboard.  
  
"Fifteen seconds," she muttered, shaking her head. I felt a thrill at this number, and walked over to the bleachers. I took my usual seat and felt extreme pleasure at the sight of Katelyn's face, pasty white and shocked beyond reason. My eyes flickered to Nick, and the contentment was gone, replaced by nausea and, steadily growing, self-disgust. He was looking at me unbelievingly, like most of the class, but differently than I had hoped. His mouth, unlike Kate's, was closed, but clamped shut, nostrils flared. His eyes were open wide, unblinking. I lowered my eyes to the floor, where my pride was, and set my chin on my knees. Nick was afraid of me.  
  
  
  
  
  
Mrs. Lin's sharp voice echoed through the gym, dismissing the class. I dragged myself to the locker room, and, thankfully, was the first person there. I opened Gwen's locker and took out my backpack, clothes, and shoes, exchanging them for her running shoes. I changed, folding up the new PE clothes and setting them on the bench, and was shoving my feet into my sneakers when I felt a noticeable shadow fall over me. I glanced up to see Katelyn and her four 'friends'. I let out a huge breath and continued to lace my shoes. Katelyn coughed, and I pointedly ignored her.  
  
"What the hell was that?" she said rudely, tapping her foot. I finished putting on my shoes, and got to my feet. She backed up a step, hesitating. I was almost six inches taller than she was, and as I proved in the gym, more than a match in strength. I looked around at the faces of her entourage. She and two of them looked like a set of triplets, hair highlighted a fake blonde, brown eyes lined in smoky black. They looked like they were ready to go to prom. I glanced at another girl. She was asian, with long black hair, curled obviously with a curling iron, eyes made the same blue as mine with contacts. She looked like she had cataracts. My eyes flickered to the last girl. Her build was on the heavy side, I perceived, though she was by no means obese. She had extremely red hair, and was about two inches taller than me. I thought she looked like a Viking. I looked back at Kate, and cleared my throat.  
  
"What?" I said politely. She spluttered for a few moments, then paused, gaining composure.  
  
"Just wanted to congratulate you on your little performance," she said. From the way she was saying 'congratulate', and 'performance', I thought she was trying to sound more intelligent. Her voice was high and clear, sharp as a knife, and giving me an extremely annoying headache. "It appears to me that you really are a freak. Like, one of those side-show, circus types of people." She smiled then, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I understood exactly how those tattooed guys on Death Row felt. Not in their jail cells, but while contemplating murder. I smiled back.  
  
"And it appears to me, Katelyn," I said, controlling my emotion as best I could, "that you still don't know the meaning of the word insipid." I turned abruptly and grabbed my backpack, shoving the PE clothes in it. I slung it on my back and turned back to them. I couldn't help giving Kate a tiny salute, then made to walk past.  
  
"Kelsey," she barked, and the big redhead stepped in front of me. I looked at Kate incredulously, and took my backpack off, preparing to have to fight. I had never been in a fight before, but I wasn't about to lie down and say 'Go ahead, stomp on me.'  
  
"I can't believe you're gonna make your bodyguard do the dirty work," I said annoyedly. She laughed, a high, unhumorous sound.  
  
"She's better at these sorts of things, I have to admit," she said pretentiously. I looked at her, smiling shrewdly.  
  
"What sorts of things? Getting her ass kicked?" I snapped. At this, there was a response from the Viking. She sort of grunted, a surprisingly deep sound for a girl, even for one of her size. She rolled the sleeves of her blue sweater up, baring muscular forearms. I rolled up the sleeves of my sweat jacket, showing smaller but equally muscular arms, and bent my knees. She stared at me, like a bear, waiting for any nervous movements. But there were none. Before today, I would have run for my life. I probably wouldn't even have been in this position, I amended. But, even without knowing my exact strength for sure, I wasn't afraid. I knew I could take this girl, and I would. 


	9. Fighting and Math Class

**OK, I just sat down with a cup of coffee and wrote this..so don't yell at me if it sucks...I wrote until the coffee ran out...now I'm gonna go work on the outlander one..harry potter's up though, if ya wanna take a look..ok, then...**  
  
I glared at this Viking, and she grinned back at me maliciously. She threw a sudden punch at my head, but I was out of the way before I even knew what I was doing. I started circling, and she jabbed again. I snapped my head back and dealt a clout on the side of her own. She stared at me, startled. I didn't know how I was doing this, but I decided to let the instinct take over completely. It was like when you blurted things out, without thinking; I was moving as though Bruce Lee had taken over my body, and I didn't even know how.  
  
She recovered quickly from the surprising but small attack, and made a swipe at my abdomen. I pounced back, slamming painfully into the wall of lockers. I winced lightly at the impact, but didn't let it daze me. She grinned stupidly at me and crouched slightly; but it was no use. I knew what she was going to do, and I was prepared. She lunged, launching the enormous frame full-force at me. I jumped, landing squat-style on top of the five-foot high lockers. I clenched my eyes shut sympathetically as the Viking crashed into the metal below me, yelping in pain. I opened them again to see Katelyn and the others' faces, white with a grim satisfaction. She stepped forward and glanced down flippantly at the big girl curled up on the floor. She looked up at me, and I hopped down nimbly and stared at her, drawing myself up to full height. Her eyes were sparkling with malice.  
  
"I knew you were a freak," she said simply, and walked out the double doors, her entourage following with swaying hips. I stared at the doors for a few moments until I was shaken out of my stupor by the bell. I gathered my things slowly and walked into the hall, heading to math class.  
  
I reached the class a few minutes before the bell rang, and made a beeline for the back of the classroom. Raising my gaze from its position on the floor, I was almost shocked to find Nick sitting in my seat. He looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to tell him to move. Since I knew telling him off was what he wanted, and that if I did so he would win whatever game we were playing, I took two steps sideways and sat in the seat next to him. He gave me a surprised look and glanced at the door, where his friend had entered. I watched a silent conversation, apparently explaining to the friend that I was sitting there and wasn't going to move. I smothered a smile. He had done the same thing as I had, trying to win. I shook my head. This was so dumb. The bell rang loudly and I took out my notebook, waiting for Mr. Adams to get there. He was always a few minutes late. I stared at my notes for a moment, preparing for the class. Math was always my hardest subject, mostly because I couldn't pay attention, but also because my brain just did not work that way. I was definitely a writer. English and history were probably the only subjects I was any good at, though if you asked someone about me, they'd probably say, "Who? Oh, wait, that really smart girl in second period? She's kind of a nerd, isn't she?" I didn't mind much. I wasn't really a part of the social thing of high school, and never really wanted to be anyway. I was just focusing on school and trying to get out as quickly as possible. I shook off these distracting thoughts and tried to channel my energy to reviewing for the possible pop quiz Mr. Adams hinted at the previous day. Only a math teacher would give a quiz on a Friday, I thought grumpily. I looked up at a tapping on my desk into the grinning face of Nick MacKenzie. I smiled sarcastically and went back to my studying.  
  
"Hey, come on," he said, mock pleading. I looked at him for a moment, then put all my papers into my binder, put the binder under my desk, and folded my hands.  
  
"Yes?" I said, raising an eyebrow. He gave me a Look, and I dropped the act.  
  
"Fine," I said impatiently. "What do you want?" He let out a breath.  
  
"What exactly did you do to Katelyn?" he asked, looking at me as though daring me to lie. I was sorely tempted to, just to piss him off, but glared at him instead.  
  
"I didn't do anything to her," I snapped. "I tried to leave the locker room and she had her oaf gang up on me." He looked at me skeptically.  
  
"Kelsey?" he said, raising both eyebrows. "And you're still in one piece? That girl's built like a pro wrestler..." He trailed off, obviously not believing me.  
  
"Yeah, her," I said shortly. I started to say something extremely rude about the resemblance of her and his mother, but Mr. Adams walked in and yelled at the class to quiet down, and we did.  
  
  
  
After we had taken the quiz and Mr. Adams had collected it, we settled down to correct our homework orally, as we did every day. Sometimes, when he was feeling particularly paranoid, Mr. Adams made us switch papers so we wouldn't cheat and put the correct answer on our own papers. But, fortunately, today he was feeling relaxed and let us keep our papers.  
  
"Let's see, who will I pick on today..." he said, eyes glinting maliciously. His gaze wandered around the room, resting on the back row. "You," he said. I thought he was pointing at me, so when I opened my mouth to answer, I was surprised to hear instead the deep voice sitting next to me.  
  
"The square root of twenty-three," said Nick quickly. He gave me a sidelong glance, and I stifled a smile. I looked back up to Mr. Adams with what I hoped was a look of polite indifference. He started to say something, but shook his head and went on to the next question. I glanced at Nick and he frowned slightly.  
  
"How weird," he said. "I figured he would still call on you. I didn't mean to get you out of having to answer," he added with a grin. I shrugged but smiled back at him.  
  
"Well, I s'pose it was just the easier thing to do," I replied, drawing circles on my desk, "seeing as he doesn't know my name. This way, he wouldn't have to look at his seating chart." Nick snorted.  
  
"I don't understand why you do that," he said, shaking his head again. I started to answer, but was interrupted.  
  
"Mr. MacKenzie!" came Mr. Adams sharp voice from the front of the class. "Save it for lunch, please?" And then he went back to droning about the importance of graph paper in this class. I grinned widely at Nick.  
  
"Well, if they knew my name, then they could yell at me, like that," I said practically. "This way, they can blame it on you." He narrowed his eyes.  
  
"I knew, under that shy, quiet outer layer, there was a devious and mischievous mind," he said shrewdly. I smiled sweetly.  
  
"Hey, you're that chick from gym class, huh?" said the guy in front of me. I realized it was Jay; I remembered he had finished the rope climbing exercise quickly, but I had still outdone him by half. My eyes widened in surprise at being spoken to, but I recovered myself.  
  
"Um, yeah, I guess," I muttered, ignoring the snickers coming from Nick.  
  
"I have SO never seen a girl do that before," he said appreciatively. "You have my congratulations." I grit my teeth.  
  
"Erm, thanks," I said, barely resisting the urge to burst into hysterical giggles.  
  
"You three!" barked Mr. Adams. His face was turning red. "Knock it off!" I grinned at the two of them and turned to Nick.  
  
"Wow, he actually addressed you that time," remarked Nick. I smiled sarcastically.  
  
"Sort of," I replied. He shook his head.  
  
"No, really," he said, mock-serious. "You shouldn't talk to me anymore. I'll turn you into a 'hoodlum'." I snorted.  
  
"I, young sir, will never go to your side," I said pompously. He grinned. The bell rang and I gathered my things. As I left the room to go to my locker, I was caught up by Nick.  
  
"Hey, do you think I could meet you at that table you eat at?" he asked, pulling my arm so I would stop walking. I tried not to look surprised. "I have to talk to you."  
  
"Uh, sure, I guess," I said, confused. "You know where it is." I started to walk again.  
  
"K, see you then," he replied, and disappeared into the crowd. I walked slowly to my locker, confused about what had just happened. What the hell was that all about, I thought. I saw Gwen at her locker and paused. I needed to make up with her. This was stupid, not even a real fight. I had been slightly hurt at what she said, but I couldn't stay angry for long. I mean, what she said was true. I took a deep breath, and walked toward her.  
  
  
  
  
  
**OK, this has nothing to do with this fic or any of my other ones..I have been thinking of starting a lord of the rings one..but I don't want to do it if you guys don't want me to...i mean, I cannot, absolutely CANNOT write like tolkien, I don't mean that, I just mean, I will do my own writing style, but based on the books and characters...or whatever...just say whether or not I should do that if you write a review for this chapter..** 


	10. Gwen crush?

"Gwen." I stood a few feet away, feeling extremely uncomfortable. I was never one for confrontation, though...your little performance in the locker room might say something different, eh? said a tiny voice in my mind. I felt a little smile flicker at the corner of my mouth, but it disappeared when Gwen turned around. We stood there for a few minutes, completely silent. Neither of us wanted to be the one to start the conversation. The bell rang suddenly, making us both jump. We laughed in unison, and both sprang forward.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry Gwen!" I blurted, at the same time she said, "Oh, Jess, I was so stupid!" We both burst into laughter again, and hugged each other. I pulled away, uncontrollably.  
  
"You know me," I said with a grin. "Nothin' too corny." She smiled widely.  
  
"Get your stuff, we'll go eat lunch," she said, leaning against the locker. As I twisted the combo on my lock, I turned to talk to Gwen, but her attention was elsewhere. I followed her smirking gaze and was shocked to find that it led to none other than Jay Murphy, the stereotype of a high school football player. Out of all the guys in our high school, Gwen was attracted to the one 'most likely to go pro'? It didn't make much sense. I elbowed her subtly as I closed my locker. She jumped and looked embarrassed. I had never seen Gwen like this. She was acting like a normal teenage girl.  
  
"Got a little crush, have ya?" I said, wrinkling my nose. She shoved her hair, which was completely black and hanging down past her shoulders, behind her ears and pretended to search for something in her bag.  
  
"No, of course not," she said unconvincingly. She started to walk to the cafeteria, and I trotted to keep up with her. I grinned maliciously.  
  
"I think you do-oo," I teased. She pushed open the double doors and purposely let one swing into my face. I caught it before it did any real damage and skipped to catch up to her again.  
  
"It's okay to have a crush," I informed her knowledgeably. She glared at me and I smiled at her placidly. "It's not like you're in love or anything. Just a little like-like action goin' on," I said, my smile growing. I looked around for Jay, so that I could point him out and tease her some more, but stopped when I bumped into Gwen. She had slowed down, staring toward our table in the corner of the room. I followed her gaze and was shocked to find Nick sitting in my spot near the wall. I started panicking, but then remembered that he had wanted to talk about something. I was suddenly distracted by a light bulb above my head. I now had a connection with Nick. Nick was Jay's best friend. A smile slowly grew on my face as the plan formulated in my head. Nick, mistaking it for a smile of greeting, grinned back. I plopped down comfortably at the table, and looked up at Gwen. She was staring at me blankly.  
  
What is this, said her eyes. I glanced quickly at the bench, and back to her. Just sit down, I replied. She shrugged and sat down cautiously. Nick smiled at her.  
  
"Hi, I'm Nick," he said genially, reaching a hand across the table. Gwen glanced at me, smirking. She looked back to Nick, a polite expression settled on her face.  
  
"Gwen. Nice to meet you," she replied, shaking hands lightly. There was an awkward silence. Gwen looked from my face, to Nick's face, and back to mine again. She raised an eyebrow.  
  
"I'm gonna go get some lunch," she said. She caught my glance, snorted slightly, and walked away. Nick looked at me appreciatively.  
  
"That was cool," he said, grinning. I frowned, confused.  
  
"What?" I said.  
  
"You know, that whole, best friend, I-know-what-you're-thinking-and-don't- have-to-talk-to-communicate-with-you," he replied. I laughed.  
  
"Well," I said expansively. "Some people, ya just have-"  
  
"That connection with," he finished, grin widening. I smiled, my head feeling prickly. I turned my eyes down and pretended to be extremely absorbed with a pin on Gwen's bag.  
  
"You wanted to talk to me," I said suddenly, looking him in the eye. He blinked for a few moments, then settled, remembering.  
  
"Yeah, I-" he began, but I cut him off.  
  
"Oh wait!" I said, remembering my earlier thought. Nick looked bewildered, but I ignored him, leaning forward confidentially. "Listen. Gwen's got a slight infatuation with your friend Mr. Bodybuilder over there." I nodded at Jay, who was laughing at something at the prep table. Nick raised an eyebrow. I rolled my eyes. "I want, - I'd like it," I corrected myself, "very much, if you would be a bit of an influence, if you know what I mean?" He grinned and looked at Jay thoughtfully.  
  
"Well, I don't really know what his type is," he said. I kicked him under the table, but he didn't flinch, his grin only widened. "I could probably set up a date," he said honestly. I nodded, heartened. "But see, the thing is, I mean, even though Jay looks like a pretty confident guy, he has girl trouble." I must have looked skeptical, because he said, "I mean, we start talkin' about girls and he sort of, clams up, or starts stumbling over words. To be perfectly honest, it would probably be a disaster." He sat back against the wall and folded his hands meditatively. I frowned.  
  
"Well, I would say that Gwen wasn't like that, but today before lunch she was acting, so, so," I searched for a proper word, then gave up. "Girly." Nick chuckled. I looked at him. "What would you suggest, oh great and wise MacKenzie?" He sat up straight and closed his eyes. He stayed there for a moment, and then slumped in his seat. He shrugged.  
  
"I dunno," he said, and I narrowed my eyes at him. I let out a huge sigh, folded my arms, and lay my chin on them on the table.  
  
"We could always go with them," I said without thinking. Nick raised his eyebrows. After realizing what I had said, I decided not to make a big deal of the fact that I had just unpurposefully asked him out on a date. "You know, like coaches." I tried to act nonchalant, but I could feel my face starting to redden. He looked at me for a few moments, bemused, then got up from the table.  
  
"Sure," he said casually. He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, looked it over, and set it on the table before me. "Write down either one of your addresses down, be there at seven on Saturday, and we'll be there to pick you guys up." I did so, in a bit of a haze, and he stuffed the card back in his pocket. He touched his head lightly and was gone. I stared at the wall until Gwen sat in front of me with wide eyes and a huge grin.  
  
"So," she said expectantly. I raised an eyebrow. "SO," she said again. Suddenly, I felt a small pressure on my big toe, and realized that the heel of her boot was threatening to crush my badly protected, sneakered feet.  
  
"Okay, okay!" I said urgently, pulling my foot out of reach. She leaned forward earnestly. "What do you want to know?"  
  
"What did you guys talk about?" she asked, completely ignoring the salad and water she had stood in line for.  
  
"Oh, that's an easy one," I said happily, taking the bag of chips I had brought from home out of my backpack. "You." She gaped at me.  
  
"You talk to Nick MacKenzie alone, and the topic of conversations is me?" she said incredulously. "My god, Jessi, you really are a nerd." I looked indignant.  
  
"Am not," I replied. "And don't be so conceited," I joked, "we weren't talking about only you." She looked at me suspiciously. I grinned maliciously. "Jay's name came up a few times." Her eyes widened.  
  
"Jessica Parker, you didn't," she said dangerously. I smiled pleasantly.  
  
"Yes I did," I replied. Before she could yell at me, I rushed in with, "They're picking us both up Saturday at seven, at my house." I closed my eyes, pretending to defend against an attack. When I opened them again, cautiously, Gwen was staring at me blankly, her mouth hanging open slightly. She got up slowly and walked around the table to my side. I got up to meet her, still on the defense, and looked at her warily. She reached me and threw her arms around me. My eyes flashed with surprise. "What are you doing?" I asked her pointedly.  
  
"Thanking you without words," she said, voice muffled slightly by my shoulder. I grinned.  
  
"Okay, well, you're welcome," I said uncomfortably, prying her off of me. She practically skipped over to her seat and plopped down happily.  
  
As she started to eat her salad, she told me, "You know, we have got to do something about that hair of yours." I sneered at her.  
  
"And why is that?" I asked, munching on Doritos. She grinned.  
  
"It's not only my date," she said formidably. The lunch bell rang and we got up. I thought about what she had just said. The full meaning of it hit me suddenly in the stomach as we were walking out the door. No way, I thought. This was Gwen and Jay's date, not mine and Nick's. I realized that he never told me what he wanted to talk about. It had seemed pretty urgent at the time, but we had discussed Jay and Gwen, and he never mentioned it again, he never got an answer from me for whatever question he had wanted to ask. Or did he? 


	11. Beautifications and more fighting

**::drumroll:: And now, folks. The moment you've all been waiting for. On the edge of your seats, waiting in line for hours to get your tickets....okay, just kidding. But, for those of you extremely attached to this fic (if there are any of you), you have probably been anticipating this part at least, a tiny, tiny bit......if not, well, never mind.....anywayz, here you go!!**  
  
"Okay, I'm ready," said Gwen, with a last look in the mirror. I looked up from the mystery book I was reading.  
  
"Guinivere, it's only five o' clock," I said, glancing at my old fashioned alarm clock. She grinned.  
  
"I know," she said hastily. "I'm still ready though. You can have your bathroom back." I resumed my reading.  
  
"That's okay," I said, focusing on the book. I was almost finished and the case almost solved. Sue Grafton had this reader anticipation thing down to an art. "I'm all ready too." Suddenly, the book was snatched from my vision, replaced by two green eyes widened to their potential.  
  
"What do you mean, you're all ready?" she asked incredulously. My cheeks turned slightly pink as she took in my jeans, sneakers, and t-shirt with a horrified look on her face. "A date with your lover-boy of two years, and your wearing 'around-the-house' clothes? I think not." She marked my place carefully, yanked me off the bed, and thrust me into the bathroom. I tried to get out, like a cat thrown into a bathtub.  
  
"Ah, ah, ah," she said, wagging a finger like an old schoolmarm. "You are not leaving this room until I am finished with you."  
  
We spent the better part of an hour and a half making me into Britney Spears. Well, maybe not the face, but I certainly had the stomach.  
  
"I still can't figure out when you turned into Miss Abs of Steel," she said, poking me.  
  
"Ow!" I squeaked. "Stop it. I told you, I woke up the other day and it was like that." She shook her head, but didn't say anything. When she was finished with me, I refused to look in the mirror.  
  
"C'mon, Jess," she said, trying to coax my eyelids open. "I swear, I didn't use blue shadow, and only clear lip gloss. It looks great!" When I finally opened them, I was actually pleased with the results. She had used a sort of golden brown shadow, the tiniest hint of eyeliner, and mascara on both upper and lower lashes. My cheeks held a rosy tint that looked almost natural, and she had been telling the truth about the lip-gloss. I surveyed myself in the mirror, then turned to Gwen. She smirked at me.  
  
"Okay, okay," I admitted. "It looks good, or, as good as it can with my face. Thank you," I told her. And, for the first time voluntarily, I gave her a huge hug.  
  
"I think more than your abs have changed Jessi," she said jokingly. But it was true. I knew the bodily changes had to do with the spider bite, but what of the personality? I was about to go on a, basically, double date with the guy of my dreams, because I had asked him. I would never have done that normally. Maybe it was just cause and effect. My actions, which were due to the new spider powers, had caused me to mingle with people I wouldn't have normally mingled with. I let go of Gwen.  
  
"Now, let's see what you have in your closet," she said, and skipped out of the room.  
  
"Gwen, you are so perky tonight," I teased her. She looked insulted.  
  
"I am NOT perky," she said indignantly, rummaging through my closet. I came out with a black skirt that came just above my knees. She held it up to me, but I shook my head and shoved it back to her.  
  
"We can look in my mom's closet for a blouse or something," I told her, hanging the skirt back up. "But I am wearing jeans. And that is FINAL," I said. She gave me a Look, but grabbed me by the elbow and led me into my parents' room. My mom was sitting on her bed, feet propped up, Elvis playing on the radio, reading TIME magazine. She looked up inquiringly when we entered.  
  
"Can I help you ladies?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.  
  
"Yeah, we-," Gwen began, but I cut her off. I seemed to be getting pretty good at interrupting people.  
  
"We're going out tonight, remember?" I said quickly. Gwen shot me a dirty look, which I pointedly ignored. "Gwen wants me to wear a nice shirt. Can I borrow one?" She started to get up.  
  
"No, ma, stay there, I can get it," I said hastily. This may sound ridiculous, but I really didn't want Gwen to whisper our plans for the evening into my mother's ear as she was passing. Though she was my best friend, she was the kind of person to get a kick out of my mom teasing me for the next five years. I dragged open the huge closet doors and looked at all the items. Gwen came up beside me.  
  
"How 'bout this?" she said, taking out a black sequined halter-top that my mom surely hadn't worn since the eighties. I glanced at her. She was snorting into her pillow, and I narrowed my eyes.  
  
"Or, how about THIS one," I said. Actually, it was perfect; a nice collared cotton button-up, three quarter sleeves, dark navy blue. Gwen looked at me skeptically, but thought a moment, then nodded.  
  
"Okay," she said reluctantly. I shrugged out of my jacket and buttoned the shirt over the tank top I was wearing. I could tell she wanted me to wear something more vibrant, but this was as good as it was going to get. At least she was getting me out of a sweat jacket, right? That reminded me of something.  
  
"Um, do you have a coat, mom?" I asked her. I slid the door close and the opposite one open, where her and my dad's jackets were kept. "It's September, in New York, and I am definitely not willing to sacrifice warmth for beauty."  
  
"Try that suede one," she said, pointing. I grabbed a sleeve, looking at her for confirmation. "No, no, yes, that one." I pulled the coat off the hanger and tried it on. Perfect. It was light tan suede, with sheep's wool or something covering the inside. I grinned.  
  
"Thank you mommy," I said sweetly. I led Gwen out of the room and back to mine. I took off the coat, as the heater was on, and did a little fashion model twirl.  
  
"Well?" I said. She thought for a moment, scrutinizing me, then crossed the room to my closet. She took out a pair of black boots and tossed them to me.  
  
"Jeans, I can handle," she said, smiling. "But sneakers? Absolutely not." I slipped my Nikes off with a sigh and shoved my feet into the boots. After I had laced them, I stood up. Gwen nodded.  
  
"The boots are very sophisticated," she said, provokingly. I smiled, with sarcasm.  
  
"They keep my feet warmer anyway," I told her stubbornly. The doorbell rang and my heart leapt. I heard Gwen take in a shaky breath, and we exchanged glances. She gave me an encouraging smile. Gwen Fortunato was not one to be deterred by shyness, unlike her best friend Jessica Parker.  
  
"Here goes nothing," she told me, and walked out the door, head held high.  
  
  
  
  
  
I followed her into the living room, where my dad was, to my horror, shaking hands with Nick. When they caught sight of me, they both grinned. I ran my tongue along the inside of my cheek, trying not to scream. Unjustifiably, I was extremely embarrassed. And it wasn't even my date, supposedly.  
  
"Hey, Jessi, can I talk to you for a sec?" said my dad, raising an eyebrow. I nodded and followed him to the hall, leaving the three staring after me.  
  
"Could I get a news brief, please?" he said, folding his arms. I exhaled.  
  
"Gwen likes a guy," I said, in a tone someone would have used in telling an alibi to a prosecutor. "I'm sort of friends with the guy's best friend. He's doing me a favor, and I'm doing her one. That's all," I finished, trying for a nonchalant shrug. I examined my dad's face and was surprised to find amusement on it.  
  
"What?" I said, feeling slightly irritated. "Is the interrogation over now? They're waiting."  
  
"They can wait a few seconds longer, Jessica," he said. I raised an eyebrow. He was going to tell me something. He paused. "Jess, have you told Gwen about....you know?" I shook my head. "Good. You can't tell anyone. Not even Gwen. It's vital. Not only would they probably not believe you, but they might take it to the papers. It wouldn't lead to anything good, trust me," he ended. I didn't know why, but I felt depressed. Something good happens to me, and I can't even tell my best friend?  
  
"Why can't I tell Gwen?" I asked. "I mean, she would believe me, and she's my best friend. She wouldn't rat on me or anything." He shook his head.  
  
"Harry Osbourn was my best friend," he said sadly. "Look what happened." I glanced away.  
  
"We can talk about this another time, dad," I said, starting toward the living room. "See you around eleven." I felt my spirits lighten when I saw everyone at the door again. Gwen stole a shy look at Jay, who was pretending to examine the molding around the doorframe with interest. Nick looked back and forth between them amusedly. I caught his eye and we grinned at each other.  
  
"Let's go then," I announced. They filed out the door and I closed it behind us. Gwen, tired of the normal teenage girl behavior that was apparently taking over her, boldly stepped ahead with Jay in her wake. He trotted up beside her and smiled down. She grinned back up and clasped his big hand in her slender one. They seemed to be having a conversation, but we were too far behind to hear. I grinned at Nick.  
  
"They seem to be doing all right so far," I remarked. He nodded.  
  
"Yeah, Jay seems like a dumb jock when you meet him, but he's actually really smart," he said. His hands were shoved in his pockets. "He gets mediocre grades, but only cuz he doesn't care."  
  
"Sounds a bit familiar," I murmured. He chuckled.  
  
"Ah, leave me alone," he joked. There was a silence as we observed Gwen and Jay, walking hand in hand and laughing at something. We reached the elevator a few moments after they did, but stood apart from them to give a little privacy. Suddenly I was aware of Nick looking at me.  
  
"You look really nice," he said absently. I felt my ears turn red.  
  
"Thanks," I muttered. He smiled.  
  
"I like how you don't wear a lot of make-up usually," he said. "It looks special when you do wear it. Kate wears way too much every day. She looks the same on formal occasions as she does at school." He was blabbering now, just to fill the silence. Yikes, man, said a critical voice. That was real smooth. Talk about the girlfriend. Not exactly the best small talk, is it? Am I right Jessi? I rolled my eyes mentally. Great. Voices in my head, with their own minds, giving me advice. Do I get a prize or something for being certifiably crazy? Shut up, I told the voice. Well, that's polite, it said indignantly. That was just one difference between Nick and I. He talked, I thought.  
  
"Yeah, that was the right thing to say," he said under his breath. I looked at him for a moment, then started to laugh. It began with a tiny giggle. He looked at me, surprised. I snorted, then bit my lip. He chuckled uncertainly, and I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing. When I was finished, still hiccuping slightly, he grinned and shook his head.  
  
"What?" I asked, stuffing down the laughter rising to the surface again.  
  
"I think you are probably the only girl in the world that would laugh instead of slapping me," he said appreciatively. I snorted again, then took a deep breath. I noticed Gwen and Jay staring at us. I wiggled my fingers at them and shifted my weight so that Nick was blocking their gaze. I bit my lip again.  
  
"Well, why would I slap you?" I asked, belatedly realizing that this wasn't the best way to start a conversation. The elevator doors opened, showing an old couple. We graciously let them out.  
  
"Well, talking about my ex isn't exactly the best thing to do when-," he blurted, then stopped short. I looked at him curiously.  
  
"When what?" I asked. He stepped into the elevator after Gwen and Jay. I dimly noticed that they were in another heated conversation, but I was more interested in the reason Nick had just cut himself off.  
  
"Nothing," he muttered. He pressed the button for the lobby repeatedly. I noted the change in color and grinned.  
  
"No, you've gotta tell me," I pried. He repressed a grin.  
  
"Maybe later," he said secretively. I wrinkled my nose at him.  
  
"That's just mean," I told him, crossing my arms. There was a silence, and then I realized what he had said.  
  
"Wait, 'ex'?" I said, staring at him. He shuffled his feet as we walked down the street.  
  
"Yeah, I broke up with Kate," he muttered. He looked at me curiously. "I would figure you'd have heard it by now." I shook my head silently. I had consoled myself in the one solid fact that this was not a date because he had a girlfriend. Had I been wrong? I didn't know if I wanted to be. I kicked an empty Coke can into a gutter.  
  
"Yeah, that's a wonderful way to start off the evening," he muttered to himself. I chuckled.  
  
"No, no," I said, smiling. "It's fine. I mean, well..." I trailed off. "Change the subject," I said firmly. He nodded dutifully.  
  
"What movie do you want to go see?" he said promptly. I thought for a moment.  
  
"Why don't we ask the lovely couple?" I said, grinning. He smiled back.  
  
"Yo, Romiette, Julio," he called. They turned around, and I giggled. They let us catch up.  
  
"I think you've got your Shakespeare mixed up," I told him. He grinned.  
  
"What?" asked Jay. He looked slightly annoyed at his date being interrupted.  
  
"Which movie do you guys wanna see?" asked Nick, grinning maliciously at Jay. Jay scowled at him. Gwen replied, but I didn't catch what she said. In a blinding flash, I saw the memory thing again. This time, I saw Gwen hitch her purse higher onto her shoulder. Another flash. Gwen was against a brick wall, an old worn movie poster behind her. A man in black grabbed her purse and ran away. Another flash. Gwen was crying into Jay's collar. Another flash, and I could hear and see again.  
  
"Jessica!" said Nick, concerned. He gave me a little shake. I blinked stupidly at him. "Are you okay?" I nodded, feeling a bit paranoid. I looked around for a few moments, then back at Nick. He looked at me strangely.  
  
"Let's go then," said Gwen, frowning at me. I nodded again. I felt like a rag doll, but I could tell I was coming back to my senses. I was worried now. This had happened twice before, and both times the dream (or premonition, as I was starting to think they were) came true. I tried to recall everything about the images. Gwen was standing in front of something colorful......a poster. I remember thinking it was a movie poster. And the man was wearing.....black? That was no help, everyone in New York wore black. Which way did he run? I shut my eyes; the memory was fading. He grabbed Gwen's purse and pushed Nick out of the way....Nick was standing on her....right...so he ran to my left. My head was starting to pound, and I opened my eyes. Nick was looking at me warily.  
  
"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked. I nodded, forcing a smile. But I was extremely paranoid. I had barely avoided the last two times.  
  
"Maybe we shouldn't go to a movie," I said absently, staring over my shoulder. I looked back just in time to avoid a lamppost. Nick frowned at my strange behavior.  
  
"Why?" he asked. "The theater is just up there." I followed his glance and saw it was true. I peered at the brick wall near the entrance and a bolt of terror coursed through my limbs. It was the poster, for the movie 'Just Married.' I looked around wildly.  
  
"Jessi, what's wrong?" demanded Nick, grabbing my arm. I looked at him, trying to quell the panic. This was not a big deal. Nothing was going to happen. Suddenly, I remembered the mugger. The image of his pain-stricken face went through my brain. I had fought him off. Well, sort off. Some how, I had kicked his arm hard enough to break it, and that was enough to let me get away. If necessary, I knew I could do it again. I took a deep breath and smiled at him.  
  
"Nothing," I told him firmly. "Let's go in." I jumped back a half a second before Gwen crashed into me. I caught her arm before she fell on the ground. My head snapped to see what had happened. There was a man leering at us with green teeth. Wearing a black trench coat.  
  
"Cash, babycakes," he said to us. His smile widened, showing rotting teeth most likely due to alcohol. "Just the cash. I know you've got some," he said warningly, as though I'd protested. I felt a hand squeeze my shoulder, and looked up at Nick. He looked scared.  
  
"Just give him money, Jess," he whispered. I noticed he wasn't looking at my face, but beyond. I followed the direction of his eyes and was shocked to see a gun peering out of his coat. I gulped. Oddly enough, I wasn't scared. I should have been terrified. But, like Gwen, I was shaking. From rage. I shrugged Nick's hand off my shoulder and stepped forward half an inch.  
  
"No," I whispered. The man raised an eyebrow.  
  
"No?" he said. He laughed a low grumbling laugh. "You're choice babe-" I kicked the gun out of his hand and it flew across the street, into a second story window. He grimaced at me, shaking his hand out.  
  
"That was a mistake," he said, and lunged at me. I moved sideways.  
  
"Get out of the way!" I shouted. Nick grabbed Jay and Gwen and yanked them the rest of the way to the theater. I bent my legs slightly. This guy was huge, maybe 6"4, but some pride deep inside me swore I could take him. He roared and leaped again, trying to punch me. I hopped out of the way again. But I lost my balance, treading on an untied shoelace. I slammed into the wall, wincing. I cursed the boots, but was distracted long enough for the man to grab me by the collar. I let out a yelp as he shoved me first into a dark alley. I whipped around, getting back into a fighting stance. I heard Nick yelling, but ignored it. I was concentrating. This guy was pissing me off.  
  
"Oh yeah, tough guy?" I yelled as he came at me again. I jumped and instinctively grabbed hold of the brick. My hand stuck to it. I leaped down over his head and glared. He looked surprised, but still determined to teach me a lesson. He made a swipe at me, and I moved out of the way, up against the wall. I kicked him in the stomach. He grunted, but whipped out a knife. I hesitated and barely missed having my guts spill out onto the sidewalk. I ran to the end of the alley and was panicked to find that it was a dead end. The man was close on my heels though, so I increased my speed. I reached the end and jumped up feet first, kicked off the wall, and flipped back over. Where the hell did THAT come from? The man clumsily stopped himself from slamming into the wall. I kicked him, near his knee because that's how tall I was, and he yelped. I wasn't finished though. I pulled my arm back and swung as hard as I could. My hand collided, slightly painful, with his jaw, making a loud cracking noise, and he slumped against the wall. I stood there for a moment, frozen, cradling my hand.  
  
"Oh my GOD!" Gwen shrieked, coming up next to me. I turned to her slowly, and dragged her out of the alleyway, along with Nick and Jay. Jay put a comforting arm around her, but I knew he was shaken too. Once we were out of the alley, I took a deep breath and leaned against the wall. I folded my arms and hugged myself fiercely. I could've been killed. I pushed away from the wall and started to walk toward the theater.  
  
"Come on, you guys," I said. I smiled mechanically. "Let's not let this ruin the night, huh?" I felt a wave of sickness come over me, and stumbled against the wall. I made my way, with blurred vision, over to a bench and sat down, head between my knees. I heard creaky noises and knew everyone else had done the same. I thought dimly that I should probably be having an asthma attack, but my nausea was freshened when I remembered the reason I was breathing normally. I stood up, restless, thinking of my dad. He had been Spiderman. He had done this on a daily (or nightly, I reminded myself) basis. Was this my doom? Was this what I was going to be doing the rest of my life. I paced around on the sidewalk, extremely upset. I felt a tickle on my face and put a hand up to brush it away. I stared blankly at the clear water on my fingertips. Crying? I thought stupidly. I couldn't remember the last time I had cried. I couldn't let anyone see me. I started to walk toward the theater, but someone caught my arm. Nick. He didn't say anything, just pulled me in and held me. I knew if I wanted to, I could have pushed him away. But I just stood there, tears streaming down my face. I had never known how good it felt to cry. After a few minutes, I did push away. I looked at Gwen, who was receiving similar treatment from Jay. She felt my gaze and stepped away from him.  
  
"Let's go to the movie now," I said dully. I wiped my face and sniffed. "Just Married sound good to you guys?" Everyone nodded. We walked up to the window and paid for our tickets. Once inside the theater, Gwen pulled me aside. She seemed to be coming back to herself.  
  
"Jessi and I are going to the ladies' room," she said. "Will you guys go save seats?" They nodded, and we parted.  
  
  
  
Gwen was silent in the restroom. She yanked a few paper towels out of the dispenser and wet them under the faucet. She wiped away the mascara and eye make-up and tossed it in the trash. A minute and a half later, she looked good as new. She turned to me.  
  
"Your turn," she said sharply. She looked a bit dangerous, so I sat down on the little couch, hands folded in my lap like a little girl. She wiped off the make-up with a paper towel, like she had done for herself, and took out the things she needed to re-do my face.  
  
"What's going on," she said, applying eyeliner to my lower lashes. "Tell me now."  
  
"Nothing," I said blandly, thinking of my dad again. She shoved the pencil back into her purse.  
  
"Don't give me that, dammit!" she said harshly. Her lower lip was trembling with emotion, and she bit it stubbornly. "I know there's something wrong. And on our friendship, Jessica Parker, tell me what it is." She looked at me sharply, and I sighed, looking away.  
  
"I can't tell you," I said wearily. "And even if I could, you wouldn't believe me." She shook her head, attacking my upper lid with shadow.  
  
"That's a load of crap, Jess," she said. She snapped the container shut and put it back in her bag. She turned and started on the mascara. "And you know it. You know I'll believe what you tell me. You've never lied to me before. You are my best friend, through anything, no matter how dramatic I can be," she paused, mouth quirking, "or how stupidly stubborn you can be." I couldn't help but smile.  
  
"Yeah, I know you're right," I said. "I think you'd believe me. But that still leaves the fact that, I'm not allowed to tell you. I have been specifically warned, -" She cut me off.  
  
"I would tell you," she said quietly. "I would trust you." She stood up, closing her purse. I pushed myself off the couch and paced across the room. Then, I turned to her.  
  
"Dammit!" I said, frustrated. I walked back over to Gwen, who was obviously stifling a smile. I made her sit down on the couch, and paced back and forth in front of her, frowning.  
  
"I don't know how to tell you anyway," I told her pointedly. She waved her hand at me.  
  
"Just say it," she said breezily. "I think I can handle it." I glared at her. How could she be so calm? She doesn't know, remember? said that stupid little voice again.  
  
"Right, well," I stated, scratching my head. Then, in ten minutes time, I told her everything, starting with the spider bite in my room, through the spoon sticking to my hand, breaking the lock, fighting off the mugger, climbing the rope, and ending with what my dad had told me about his past. She stared at me, mouth hanging open unbecomingly. I looked at her helplessly.  
  
"See, you don't believe me," I said. I closed my eyes and flopped down on the couch next to her. There was a silence.  
  
"You're telling me the absolute truth?" came her voice. I looked at her and nodded. Her mouth became a firm line.  
  
"Then I believe you," she said. I stood up, looking at her incredulously.  
  
"For real?" I asked, a smile growing on my face despite the recent occurrences. She nodded and got up to face me. I threw my arms around her for the second time that night.  
  
"This is so great," I told her. She looked at me skeptically.  
  
"Your dad was really Spiderman?" she said, arching an eyebrow. She shook her head. "I never would have guessed."  
  
"Well, would you have guessed it about me?" I pointed out. She grinned.  
  
"No," she agreed. She paused. Then, "You shot a web out of your hand? Can I see?" She looked at me like a little puppy, and I thought if she had a tail, it would be wagging. I looked around, then locked the door.  
  
"Okay," I said. I stuck my arm out and pressed toward my wrist with my middle and ring fingers. A white stringy substance flew out of my wrist and landed in the corner where the wall and roof met. Gwen made a sound of disbelief.  
  
"NOW I believe you," she said. She unlocked the door and started to leave.  
  
"Oh, yeah, I SO knew you didn't believe me!" I accused. She grinned.  
  
"Well, now I do, so you can stop yelling at me," she said. "We'd better get to the theater, the guys'll be wondering what the hell we've been doing all this time." 


	12. Preoccupations

**Um, you guys, I just thought of the ugliest twist.....extremely corny.....if this is getting a bit boring or uneventful for you guys, then be honest, and I'll put the twist in here......I mean, the story in my head is sort of at a fork in the road......and I can choose which way to go.......i'm kind of shying away from the twist, but if you want it in here, then i'll put it in and write with all my heart........R & R and tell me.....and no, i dont want to tell you what the twist is, but......ugh, it is just too corny......here ya go anywayz....**  
  
  
  
"And, oh my gosh, when they were in the staircase? With that lady? And she let one?" laughed Jay. Everyone chuckled with the memory of that particular scene. Nick looked at his watch.  
  
"You ladies like coffee?" he said charmingly. I grinned and looked at Gwen.  
  
"Of course," she said, smiling at Jay. I smiled at Nick.  
  
"All right then, let's go," he said. I frowned slightly. He had looked away from me. I had done something; it was probably the alley fight. Great, someone else who was afraid of me.  
  
"Where are we going?" I asked, trotting up next to him. Gwen and Jay were lagging behind this time.  
  
"Starbucks, of course," he said. He gave me a small smile. "There's one on every corner, right?" I nodded, smiling mechanically. What was wrong with him? He seemed almost...nervous. I tried to ignore it, but it was itching at me. We reached a Starbucks, which was, ironically and quite to our amusement, just around the corner. I ordered a tall vanilla latte, which I had been drinking since I was eight. I sipped the savory liquid and grinned at Gwen, who was drinking her usual caramel machiatto. Jay and Nick both got Frapaccinos.  
  
"So elegant," I told him, grinning. He smiled sheepishly. We sat down at separate tables, on account of they were made for two. I looked at Jay and Gwen, a few feet away, and took a gulp of coffee.  
  
"Whatcha thinkin'? asked Nick absently, looking at them. I made a decision.  
  
"Just that you aren't making any sense," I answered, looking at him. He stared back uncomfortably.  
  
"Oh?" he said. I nodded slowly.  
  
"Yep," I said. I glanced at Gwen. "They would've done better without us." He stared into his plastic cup.  
  
"You sort of told me Jay wouldn't have gone alone with Gwen," I said, trying not to sound too accusatory. "They just seem to want to be alone. That's what I'm thinking." I took another drink.  
  
"I just thought, you know, he'd like some company-," he said. I shook my head.  
  
"You knew, I'm thinking," I said. I didn't know what I was doing. Things were rolling off my tongue, and I had no power to stop them. "If you don't want to say why, tell me." He shook his head but didn't say anything. I didn't know what was wrong with me. Since when did I confront people like this? This was the 'Gwen' thing to do, not the Jessi thing.  
  
"Please talk," I said quietly. I didn't know Nick that well, but I noticed that his whole mood had changed. He wasn't confident anymore, but seemed self-conscious. I wasn't sure, but I thought maybe it wasn't me he was uncomfortable with. Well, I could always ask, I thought logically. "Did I do something?" I asked, then kicked myself. Why would you ask that? said the voice in my mind. Are you completely insane? "Yes," I muttered to myself.  
  
"No, no," said Nick hastily. "You didn't. And I know what you're thinking. That was weird, but it's not that. It's me," he added. I grinned involuntarily.  
  
"Where have I heard that one before," I said wryly. He smiled.  
  
"Nah, you believe me," he said.  
  
"Okay, then what's wrong with YOU?" I blurted. That was the second time in as many minutes that I had to bite my tongue. But this time I got a laugh out of him.  
  
"Can't tell ya now," he said mischievously. I gave him a friendly punch on the arm.  
  
"Yes, please?" I begged. He shook his head, and I perceived that his mood was serious again. He looked at me urgently.  
  
"I can't tell you now," he repeated. I looked at him curiously. "It's not important. Just forget about it, please? Don't think of it anymore. All it'll do is drive you nuts. Only one of us should have to deal with that," he added with a sour smile. I smiled back uncertainly, and his look softened. "Don't worry about it." I let it go, for the moment, reverting back to a previous conversation.  
  
"Wasn't that a bit of an assumption, thinking that I'd have heard about you and Katelyn?" I said absently. I was over kicking myself. I couldn't help it. Putting duct tape over my mouth would be the only effective thing.  
  
"Oh, I didn't mean to sound conceited," he said, grinning apologetically. "It's just, it was kind of a public thing. She makes everything public," he added bitterly. He took a slurp of his drink. "I thought everyone heard it, or at least heard of it. I guess it's better that you didn't."  
  
"So, um, do you want to talk about it?" I asked awkwardly. I was a bit new to this whole 'share-your-feelings' thing, and not very good at it so far.  
  
"Well..." he said. He took another gulp. "Not really. I'd actually like to forget I ever met her. Thank you, by the way," he added. I looked bewildered.  
  
"Me?" I said, confused. "What did I do?"  
  
"You knew," he said. "You knew what she was like. You had an outside point of view. You saw how she was. And because of that whole, er, thing," he paused, mouth quirking, "You let me in on it. I didn't realize how bad she was." I shrugged.  
  
"Well, you're welcome, I guess," I said. "Honestly, I don't know how that happened. Normally, I wouldn't have done a thing like that. I probably wouldn't be talking to you either," I blurted. I felt my cheeks turn scarlet. I had a tiny hope that he wouldn't have noticed that last remark. He looked amused.  
  
"Oh, yeah?" he said. "Why wouldn't you talk to me?" So much for not noticing. I shrugged, trying to brush it off.  
  
"No reason," I said, avoiding his eyes. "Just, different crowds, you know." C'mon, Nick, let it go, pleaded the little voice in my head. "Why'd you agree to this anyway? Just to get back at-," I stopped myself. That was not something to say to him. "Never mind," I said hastily. He had the grace to look abashed.  
  
"You honestly think I would do that?" he said slowly, eyes wide. I shrugged, gulping my coffee uncomfortably. "Why would you think that?" I shrugged again.  
  
"Maybe just because, the only reason, you would....with me...." I muttered. I shook my head. "Never mind," I said again. He started to shake his head.  
  
"You really think that," he said, unbelieving. "You think that the only reason I would go out with you is to get back at someone?" I muttered something of the oh-no-of-course-not variety.  
  
"You do," he said accusingly. He trailed off, at a loss for words. I tried not to smile at his disconcerted attitude. He seemed truly offended. I sat stonily for a moment. Trying to figure what the hell was so wrong with me that I would say something like that. We sat there for a few uncomfortable minutes.  
  
"Well, I should be heading home," said Gwen suddenly. My head snapped up. I blinked a few times and shook my head slightly. I felt as though I had been sleeping. I was, obviously, still a bit preoccupied.  
  
  
  
"What're you up to at home?" I asked Gwen absently, toying with the zipper on my jacket.  
  
"Oh! I didn't tell you!" she said suddenly. I jumped slightly, and she grinned. "Mrs. White said I'm a key in for the Queen."  
  
"Oh? They know it already?" I asked. I was slightly interested, but only for Gwen's sake.  
  
"Well, she hasn't posted the parts yet," she amended hastily. "She just hinted that I'll probably get it. In fact, I think auditions are still open." I nodded dimly. How, HOW, could you have said such a stupid thing, scolded that voice, thinking of Nick. You basically accused him of being a shallow jerk, it added spitefully. You said it, I didn't, I replied automatically.  
  
"You should try for Ophelia," teased Gwen, smirking. "So sullen all the time." I smiled, leaving out the fact that I thought Ophelia was anything but stoic.  
  
"Yeah," agreed Nick. "You are pretty taciturn." I gave him a Look.  
  
"Oh really?" I said provokingly. "And how do you know what 'taciturn' means, Mr. I-don't-really-care-about-school-so-I-get-bad-grades?" He grinned.  
  
"I read a dictionary, just for you, babe," he said tartly.  
  
"Ooh, ouch," I said, smiling again. I put my hands up, palms facing him. "You win." I turned back to Gwen.  
  
"What does that have to do with anything?" I asked. "I mean, why do you have to get home?"  
  
"Oh, I've got to make my practice costume," she said, resuming the conversation. I remembered suddenly that Gwen made her own clothes, because, as she put it, 'all the factory-made clothes were the same.' I nodded. There was a silence, and I resumed my lecture with myself. Since when have YOU had a problem with 'foot-in-mouth' disease? inquired a voice. I mean, you are like the shyest person in the world. And now, you can't shut up. I was so absorbed in my thoughts that we almost passed my apartment.  
  
"Whoa, isn't this you?" asked Nick, glancing at the address. I stopped, tripping slightly.  
  
"Ow, yes," I said. I gave them all hugs; squeezed Gwen tightly, embraced Jay awkwardly, and hugged Nick with a blushing face. When he let go, he still held me firmly, forcing me to look him in the eye.  
  
"I'm serious," he said. I pretended to look curious, but I knew what he was talking about. "Nothing but genuine interest would make me ask you, - never mind," he rushed. He let go with an awkward duck of the head. "See you at school." I glanced at Gwen and Jay, but they were already on the way to Gwen's house a block over. Nick started off the opposite way, alone, shoulders hunched. I stared after him for a moment, then slowly started to climb the stairs. This was very strange. I had been virtually invisible from first grade until sophomore year. Now, a junior at sixteen years old, everything that all the other girls seemed to have started in seventh grade was suddenly and violently rushing at me like an avalanche. And I was discovering that I didn't like it very much. A lot of things that I had wished for last year, the year before that, were starting to happen. Now, I found myself willing everything to go back to normal. I looked up with surprise at my door. I had gone up the elevator and down the hall without noticing. I stuck my key in the lock and turned it. Then I heard the voices.  
  
"Why won't you just trust her, Pete?" I heard my mother shout. I closed the front door softly. They were in their room. "You know she's not impulsive; she wouldn't put herself or anyone else in danger." I heard a muffled thump, and thought my dad had taken his shoes off and thrown them on the floor. I was now in the hall, a few feet away from their door, pretending like I was going into my room. I strained to listen. I felt my hearing sharpen, and I could hear every word.  
  
"...either, Mary Jane," my dad was saying. "You know I was a nerd. Who would've thought I would do some of the stuff I did after high school? No one, because they didn't know. And that's the point MJ. No one can know. It would be a threat to her life." I heard a sigh.  
  
"C'mon, Pete," she pleaded. "I mean, you were just bursting to tell me when we got married, just like you were ecstatic to tell her. You know from experience that it was pure torture not having anyone to talk to. I think, if she had Gwen, she wouldn't feel alone." My father let out an impatient breath.  
  
"She has me," he said, so quietly I could barely hear him. There was a silence.  
  
"I know, hun," said my mom. "You're the best guide she could have. But she needs more than a guide. She needs someone to confide to, someone to share the secret with. She's sixteen years old, for crying out loud! Trust me, Pete, I was there. It's worse than hot pokers having to keep a secret. But it's a little better when you have just one friend, to share, to talk to." I could almost picture my mom's face, hopeful and pleading. I could also feel my dad's wall of disagreement start to crumble.  
  
"I just don't know, MJ," he said. "I don't think it's safe." I heard a chuckle.  
  
"Jessi's my daughter, and I love her very much," said my mom. I could hear the smile in her voice. "But she's not exactly the social butterfly, hm? Who else would she tell besides Gwen?" I felt a small wave of indignance rise up at this, but quelled it because, though I may not like it, it was basically the truth. Who would I tell but Gwen? You already told her, didn't you Jessi? said a nasty voice. I imagined myself punching the owner of the voice. Suddenly, the door opened and my dad was staring at me sternly. I looked back at him, trying not to show my surprise and slight panic at being caught eavesdropping.  
  
"No using your powers to spy on your mom and me," he said seriously. I stared at him, eyes wide, for a few more moments, then snorted. He looked surprised. I burst into laughter, slightly hysterical from the stress of the last three days.  
  
"Oh my God, Dad, do you know how completely ludicrous that sounded?" I asked him, wiping my watering eyes. He grinned at me, shaking his head. He glanced at my mom, then back at me.  
  
"Well, yes, anyway," he said professionally. "I'm assuming you heard what we were talking about?"  
  
"Somewhat," I said cautiously. I felt suddenly tired, and wanted to collapse on my bed. He rolled his neck, and it cracked loudly. I made a face.  
  
"Well, we've decided," he said wearily. "You can tell Gwen if you want to, but no one else!" I walked over and gave him a big hug.  
  
"Thanks, Dad," I said into his shoulder. He pulled me away from him and stared into my face. Then a look overcame his face, a look of pure astonishment, and then dread.  
  
"Oh," he said quietly. There was a silence. He walked past me, into the living room, and sat down on the couch. I followed him curiously. "Oh," he said again. He looked at me. "You told her already?" I felt my face waiver, and almost burst into tears at his expression.  
  
"Oh, dad, I'm sorry," I said, rushed. "It's just, Gwen's my best friend, and I KNOW she would never betray me like you were talking about, and I didn't want her to keep thinking that I didn't trust her, because she already sensed something was wrong, and, -" My dad cut off my hurried blabbering.  
  
"It's okay, Jessi," he said kindly. I bit my lip. "It's fine. But that's not all I saw." He looked at me expectantly. I stared at him, mystified.  
  
"What?" I said blankly. He raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Anything, exciting, or unusual happen tonight?" he inquired. I racked my brain. The image of the man in the black trench coat flashed across my eyes.  
  
"Oh!" I exclaimed, stepping backward into my mom.  
  
"Oof," she breathed. "Ow. What's going on?" She looked back and forth between my dad's severe expression and my red face. My dad stood up and crossed his arms.  
  
"Jessi..." he said warningly. I avoided his face.  
  
"What," I said. I was a horrible liar, and it was showing. I stole a glance at him, then broke.  
  
"Oh, all right!" I said irritably. I paused. "Can I get my PJs on first? Before I tell, -"  
  
"Yes, yes," said my dad hastily. "But you WILL tell us." I slumped into my room.  
  
As I thought of the happenings of the night, I couldn't help but think that my life was only half as exciting as it was bound to be later. Suddenly, something completely random entered my head. Something that Nick had said, just as we departed: "Nothing but genuine interest would make me ask you, - never mind." I froze in my tracks taking of my jacket. 'Genuine interest,' I thought uncomfortably. Was that the kind of interest I was thinking of? 


	13. THE talknot THAT talk

I took as long as possible in getting ready. I brushed my teeth for nearly eight minutes. I pulled on my socks slowly, then slipped my feet into my slippers. I sat on my bed. I couldn't think of anything else to do. Finally, I got up and dragged my feet to the living room. My parents were in a heated conversation on the couch. I slumped slowly over to them and plopped down. I tucked my feet up under me and curled into a ball.  
  
"Okay," said my dad. "Now that you've had twenty minutes to think about it, go ahead. Enlighten us." I sighed and sat up, crossing my legs Indian- style.  
  
"Right," I breathed. "Well, me and Nick and Gwen and Jay were walking to the movies. About a half a block away, I got this...thing. I've gotten it before. It's like, like, a premonition or something." I looked at my dad to see if he understood. He nodded, obviously hiding a smile. He was still EXCITED about this, dammit. "Anyway, I got that image thing, in my mind, and it showed some guy stealing Gwen's purse. I knew where it was going to be too. Because of the-"  
  
"Movie poster," said my dad automatically. I looked at him, bewildered. "I saw it. Just tell it for your mom." He looked pleasantly embarrassed. My mom raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Yeah, so, I did get a little paranoid, since I knew where it was, and that we were going to the movies," I resumed. "I tried to get the others to not go to the theater, but then Nick said we were already there. I looked around, and there was the same poster. I was about to start panicking, when Gwen flew backwards into me. This guy was there, in a black trench coat and long greasy hair. He was really tall. Just like the one in my...whatever it was. But he told us to give him all of our money. And from there, it was like someone else took over my BODY," I said, staring at the floor. I looked up at my dad. "D'you know? What that's like? I was in control, yet I wasn't." My dad nodded.  
  
"I'm surprised that's happened so soon," he remarked. "Happened after my second fight." I grit my teeth and looked at the floor again. There was a silence. "This wasn't the first premonition you've had?" I shook my head.  
  
"Third," I muttered under my breath. I glanced apologetically at him. "Only one of the others was a fight though! And it wasn't even a real fight!"  
  
"You can tell me later," he said sternly. I could see the amusement in his eyes though. "Go on."  
  
"Well, yeah," I said. "Um, I sort of, ah, said no to the guy."  
  
"WHAT?" said my mom. I glanced at her. She had been silent throughout the previous revelations. "Jessica Parker, I have TAUGHT you what to do in situations like those! You don't just say NO!" I blinked for a few moments.  
  
"No, that was drugs," I said stupidly. There was a surprised pause. Then everyone burst into laughter.  
  
"My gosh, Jess," said my dad, wiping his eyes.  
  
"Okay, okay," I said, ears burning. "Anyway, yeah. I said no. He had a gun." I put a hand up to stop another outburst from my mother. "He put it up, like he was going to shoot one of us, but I just sort of, kicked it, out of his hand. I think it went into a window on the second floor. In the building across the street." My dad made a sound, and I went on, talking quickly. "He tried to hit me, but I was really fast. I yelled at the others to move away, and they did. It was just me and him. He kept trying to hit me, but I was too fast. But one of my stupid shoelaces came untied, and I tripped and fell against a wall. He shoved me into an alleyway. I was going to turn around again and fight him, but he had pulled a knife." My mom made a noise, and I reached over and squeezed her hand. I went on. "It was kind of like an instinct. I turned and ran, to the end of the alleyway. But it was a damn dead end," I said vehemently. My dad snorted. "But then, it happened again. Just like someone else was controlling my body. I ran faster, to the end, and then I kicked against the wall and like, flipped over the guy." My dad could no longer contain himself. He started to laugh.  
  
"What?" I asked indignantly. "Hey come on! It's not that funny," I said sulkily.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said, still laughing. This went on for almost three minutes. I was feeling angry.  
  
"Jeez, dad," I said, standing up. I crossed into the kitchen. "Get some therapy." I took out a soda and popped it open loudly.  
  
"Aw, Jessi, I'm sorry," he said, appearing at the bar. "It's just...I got a little hysterical. Forgive me." I nodded and walked back into the living room.  
  
"Yeah, well, I ended up slugging him," I said sharply. "Knocked him out. I think that's all, so, if you don't mind, I'm going to finish this soda, and go to bed." Quite honestly, I wasn't tired at all. I felt extremely wired. I put the can up to my lips and drank it in one go. I squeezed the can experimentally and it was crushed in my hand. I grinned widely at my dad. He smiled back.  
  
"Are you really that tired?" he asked, probing the floor with his toe. "Because, I mean, I could teach you how to, you know..." He trailed off. I blinked at him for a few moments, slipped back into my room, and returned within thirty seconds, fully dressed.  
  
"Let's go," I said. I remembered someone. "Mom? It's okay, right?" She rubbed a hand over her face.  
  
"Yeah, I suppose I can't stop you from getting into these fights," she said tiredly. "You might as well have some idea of what you're doing." She waved us on. I realized that my dad wasn't in the room, and turned toward the hall. He appeared wearing jeans, a sweat jacket over a t-shirt, and sneakers. We exchanged grins.  
  
"You two!" my mom said tearfully. We hugged her tightly, then let go.  
  
"We better be off," said my dad excitedly. I turned toward the door and heard snickering. I turned back.  
  
"What?" I said, confused.  
  
"Ah, Jess?" said my dad fondly. "You have the ability to jump out the window right now and swing through New York City on a web, and you want to walk out the door?" I glanced at my wrist. The hole was still there.  
  
"So, THAT'S how you did it!" I exclaimed. My parents chuckled. I smacked my forehead. "Well, duh," I said, grinning. I swept past him and opened the window. I looked around the balcony. I remembered my hand sticking to the wall while fighting that guy, and being able to climb up the rope in gym class. I turned around and looked at my parents, who had identical amused expressions on their faces. I gave them a little wave, then grasped the wall. I climbed out and started creeping up the side of my apartment building. It was just like the rope. For some reason, my hands were sticking to the wall so strongly that I could climb up without falling. And my muscles were strong enough to pull my body weight. I reached the roof and jumped onto it. Feeling extremely pleased with myself, I turned around and looked down over the side. My dad popped up and flipped over the edge to stand next to me. I grinned at him.  
  
"Woo!" he said exuberantly. "Haven't done that in years!" I racked my brain for the memory of the last newspaper article with Spiderman in it. I squinted.  
  
"Seven?" I thought out loud. My dad nodded.  
  
"Seven years," he said thoughtfully. I sat down.  
  
"Why did you stop?" I asked. "You didn't like it?" He shook his head.  
  
"Well, I did and I didn't," he said philosophically. "I loved helping people of course, but I was living a double life. I didn't get to see you or your mother that often. So, I resigned, to put it simply. You know," he said to me. "You're going to have to take up where I left off." Something about this, this hard evidence of what had been at the back of my mind for three days, scared me.  
  
"Why do I HAVE to?" I asked. "It's required? The city seems to be doing fine without a hero, if you ask me."  
  
"No one's asking you, Jessi," he said sharply. "No one asked me either. It IS a requirement. However nice the city seems, it's bad. You have the power to fight criminals, the 'bad guys'. And you have an obligation to use this power." I was liking this less by the minute. I didn't want to sound corny, but I thought of this situation more and more as being caught in a spider web. And whatever new powers I had, I was helpless to escape. My dad resumed his lecture. "Now, I'm going to teach you how to fight," he paused. I got the feeling something was going to hurt my head, so I ducked mechanically. I glanced up, and knew that my dad had let fly a punch, and if I hadn't gone down, it probably would've knocked me out.  
  
"Good," he said pleasantly, helping me up. "You've got the reflexes, and you trust them. Always trust your reflexes." I pushed him away and made to climb back over the wall.  
  
"Stop. I don't want this," I said. "I don't want to do this." I put a foot over, but strong hands wouldn't let me climb down. My dad turned me around to make me face him.  
  
"It doesn't matter what you want anymore, Jess," he said, a bit sadly. "You've got to put your time in." I glared at him, and yanked myself out of his grip. He seemed surprised that I was just as strong or even stronger than he was. I took a few quick steps back.  
  
"No," I hissed, shaking my head. "No." My dad approached me carefully.  
  
"Jess, why are you so set on NOT doing this?" he asked logically. "It's not that bad. And you don't have to do it for the rest of your life. Just, do whatever you can," he ended lamely. He seemed at a loss for words, but I was feeling very selfish. I didn't care.  
  
"I do not want to be obligated to clean up everyone else's mess in this damn city," I said quietly. "I read the papers. I saw the things you had to do. I want no part of this." I turned away from him and started to hop over the wall.  
  
"Jessi, please," he pleaded behind me. There was enough emotion in his voice to make me stop and turn around. He looked sincerely pained.  
  
"Dad, I-" I stopped. I, I thought. Me. It was as though someone had punched me in the stomach. It wasn't about me anymore. My dad was right. I had to do what I could. You know you want to Jessi. The voice was back. You know you want to make even a tiny difference. To be known. To be recognized. But wait, it said pleasantly. Maybe your gut feeling is right. Maybe you AREN'T up for the job. Maybe, like you said. You can't. In fact, I bet you couldn't do it if you wanted to, it ended tauntingly. What would you know, I answered, falling into the trap; the trap that only the stubborn and contrary can fall for. And the proud.  
  
"Okay," I said. I was suddenly energized. My eyes felt like there were fire behind them. "I'll do it. I'll do it...if you can catch me," I said suddenly. On impulse, I leapt over the side of the building. Remembering what my dad had said about the web and getting around the city, I shot one out of my right hand and held on tightly with both. Instead of, like I expected, hitting the ground and going splat, I swung down, and then up. I felt positively free. My stomach dropped. I was about to hit the wall. Still holding on with my right hand hand, and feeling extremely clumsy, I used my left hand to shoot a web onto the wall across the street. I let go of the old one and continued the process. I saw a flagpole and perched myself on it. I glanced back and, with all the thrill of a five-year-old playing hide-and-seek, shot up the side of the wall, fueled by the pursuit of my dad. I ran full speed across the roof. On reaching the end, I propelled myself into the air. It was only an alleyway below, so the space between buildings wasn't so big. I landed on the roof and kept running, repeating the process whenever necessary. I glanced back again. My dad was only a building behind. I halted my running and jumped feet first into an alleyway. I latched onto the wall and climbed down, staying in the shadows. I let myself fall the last few feet. I turned around to keep going, and bumped into my dad's chest.  
  
"Oof," I said surprisedly. He grinned widely.  
  
"I win," he said simply. I smiled, resigned.  
  
"Yeah, yeah," I said, pushing past him. "Let's call it a night, though, eh? I can't fight crime tonight, anyway."  
  
"Oh?" he said inquiringly, coming up next to me. "And why is that?" We emerged from the dark alleyway into an empty street. I launched a web onto the side of the building across the street.  
  
"I haven't got a spandex costume yet!" 


	14. footsy and Ophelia

**Sorry it's so short but I have a C- in math, so I haven't really had time to write lately, if ya know what I mean. Enjoy, it might be a while before the next chapter, but I promise it'll be really long ;) **  
  
I winced slightly, but didn't give up. It was Monday morning, a week since our date, and Nick kept kicking me under the desk. I kicked back, flashing Ms. Stanford a toothy grin. She gave me a Look, but went on to reading what looked suspiciously like a trashy romance novel. Homeroom ended in less than five minutes, and I was determined to win this footsy war. I sensed that Nick was going to come back in for a low blow to my unprotected toes, so I lifted my foot up and put it back down on his shoe. I grinned triumphantly, and he rubbed the top of his foot tenderly.  
  
"All right, you win," he said sulkily. A smile crept into his face. "THIS time."  
  
"Oh, you immature junior guys," I said teasingly. The bell rang, and I gathered my things. Nick, Jay, Gwen and I, since last week, had come up with a routine on which we dropped everyone off at their first period. It happened so fast, I was still a bit shocked. Nick and Jay still occasionally hung out with their old friends, but mostly it was just the four of us. I had been given dirty looks from Katelyn, but she didn't do anything else. I might have been a freak, but I could kick her ass with my hands tied behind my back, and she knew it. I knew she was more than angry about Nick becoming friends with me, but as far as I knew, she had nothing to be jealous about. Gwen and Jay were going out, but nothing more than friendship had blossomed between Nick and me. I was aware from time to time of him glancing at me a bit too long, but he never said anything. I didn't know whether to be disappointed or relieved. At times, I was both.  
  
"Later," came Nick's deep voice, and I realized we had reached my class, history. Gwen was the first stop, I was the second. I smiled and said bye. I gave him a quick hug, my new trademark, and took my seat right next to the door. This was when the disappointment part came. I could see him walking away slowly with Jay, and wondered not for the first time what was going through his head.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Does anyone know if this is really pizza?" asked Jay, at lunchtime. He tried to pick it up off his tray, but it was stuck. I giggled.  
  
"I think the cheese has glue in it," I remarked. I picked a piece off of my own slice and put it in my mouth cautiously. It was rubbery, but undeniably tasted like cheese. "It's too chewy. Like bubble gum." The thought made me gag, and I spit it out into a napkin.  
  
"I don't know anyone who's actually chewed and swallowed a piece," said Nick. He squinted at it, then grinned across the table. "'Cept for you, Jay," he added. Everyone chuckled. I saw Gwen shoot a nasty look at our trays, then a relieved one at her own packaged lunch, which contained her mother's leftover spaghetti and a small fresh salad with Italian dressing in a little packet. "I don't know HOW you guys can eat that crap," she said. She twisted up a bite of spaghetti and ate it daintily. "It only takes five more minutes in the morning to throw a good lunch together." Everyone was silent as they worked on their lunch. I swallowed the fruit cup whole, only because it tasted like aluminum foil. A sudden random thought came to me.  
  
"Hey Gwen," I said. I knew my eyes were glinting maniacally, but this was a fun thing to think about. "Are tryouts for the play still open?" Her eyes couldn't have been any wider.  
  
"Yeah," she said. She looked completely confused. "Why? You know someone who wants to try out?" A smile was growing on my face.  
  
"Mm hmm," I said. "That's right."  
  
"What are you saying Jessi?" asked Nick. He had an amused look on his face. "YOU want to try out?" I grinned widely at him, and nodded.  
  
"I think I'll take you guys up on that suggestion," I said. Gwen squirmed uncomfortably.  
  
"Uh, Jess?" she said. "Are you okay? Maybe we should take you to the nurse..." She trailed off uncertainly. I laughed.  
  
"No, I'm fine," I told them. "Remember when you guys said I should be Ophelia?" They nodded. "Well, maybe I will." Gwen laughed this time.  
  
"Jess, everyone wants to be Ophelia," she said matter-of-factly. "It's the most popular part. You'd have to be a pretty damn good actress to get even the understudy." I looked at her.  
  
"How do you know what kind of actress I am?" I asked pointedly. "Have I ever acted before?"  
  
"That's the point," she said sharply. "The people trying out for Ophelia have been acting since the school they went to offered a theater class. They all have experience." She looked at me pleadingly. "Jessi, I don't know what's come over you, but I don't want you to be embarrassed." I tried to look insulted.  
  
"Well, that's nice," I said crossly. I got up and stormed to the trashcan, using the time to wipe the smirk off my face. We'll see how bad of an actress I am, Guinivere, I thought mischievously. I threw the contents of the tray into the can, then walked back to where Gwen was sitting. I loomed up as much as I could.  
  
"Tell Mrs. White that I would like to come in after school tomorrow to try out for the part of Ophelia," I said through my teeth. Then, I added on a personal note, "Don't worry, Guinivere. By then, I will have proven my talents to you." I posed dramatically. There was a surprised silence, then they all burst into laughter. I dropped my arms and grinned. "Besides. It's just for fun." 


	15. Ophelia revealed and a turn for the Wors...

**Okay, this is not the twist, I have not introduced it yet, but this is a sort of turn in events. I know the way I am writing this is not according to the comic stories at all, but I don't really care. I don't have any copyrights over this, nor am I writing it for money, so I'm going to just write it like I want to. Sorry if my changing the story offends you or anything, but I'm not going to stop, and I'm going to write what comes to me. Enjoy it or not, here it is.**  
  
Mrs. White looked at me with a supremely shrewd expression on her face. I stood stock still on the stage for a few moments, then started to walk off.  
  
"That," her voice rang through the auditorium clearly. I braced myself. "Was the best performance I have seen yet. Well done, Miss Parker. I hope you don't have a sixth period, because I want you here tomorrow." I tried not to gape at her, but did a little curtsy and walked as gracefully as I could off the stage. Gwen was waiting for me when I emerged from the auditorium. She looked like she was hiding her boredom.  
  
"Well?" she said, walking with me through the halls toward the front of the school. She had a nail file in her hands, and was using it industriously.  
  
"Does Mrs. White give complements often?" I asked, trying to sound depressed. Gwen looked up sharply from her work.  
  
"Oh, Jessi, hun," she said sympathetically. "Don't be disappointed. She hardly ever does, so don't take it personally. It's really hard to get on White's good side. Trust me. I mean, yes, I did win her favor on my first tryout, but still. I've seen her be horribly cruel to some kids." She looked at me with eyes full of pity. I let every emotion into my face.  
  
"She told me I was the best performance yet," I said smugly. We reached my dad's car and I got into the back seat. She slipped in next to me, completely silent.  
  
"So, how'd it go?" came my dad's voice. He pulled into traffic.  
  
"I have a sixth period now," I said pleasantly.  
  
"Oh really?" said my dad suspiciously. "And why is that?" I took the thick script out of my backpack and handed it over his shoulder. I unrolled it and flattened it out on the steering wheel expertly. He peered at it unsuredly.  
  
"Ophelia?" he asked incredulously. "Jessi, are you sure this isn't Gwen's script?" I chuckled and glanced at Gwen. She grinned.  
  
"No, Mr. Parker," she replied. "I'm the Queen, Hamlet's mother. Apparently, our little Jessi has some talent." My cheeks turned pink and I smiled, pleased.  
  
"Aw, shucks, you guys," I said jokingly. I put a hand up and waved like Ms. America. "I'd just like to thank the Academy..." Gwen elbowed me.  
  
"Not so fast, young lady," she said sternly.  
  
"You know, your mother wanted to be an actress," said my dad, grinning at me in the rear-view mirror. I tried not to look surprised.  
  
"Mom?" I said. "I thought she always wanted to be a journalist." I saw my dad shake his head.  
  
"Nope," he said. He turned onto our street. "She wanted to be an actress until about a year after high school graduation. She decided she didn't want to take orders like a servant anymore, so she went to college and...got...got her degree..." He trailed off, staring off to the side of the road. "Oh my god," he whispered. I followed his gaze and felt all the blood drain out of my face. I yanked my seatbelt off and got out of the car, running over to the disturbing scene. I felt my dad and Gwen getting out behind me. Before I could reach it, before I could see why there was a crowd of civilians and policemen around the front door of my apartment building, I had a premonition. It wasn't a long one, but I was painful and horrible enough to make me fall to my knees. My dad came up behind me and started to help me up. I lay limp in his cold arms. Because nothing more could have been as terrible to hear and see than that of my mother being murdered.  
**Sorry, sorry, I know you're probably yelling at the computer screen and condemning me to hell right now, but I promise I'll have the next chapter out soon, like Friday or something. Now, I'm off to save my Spanish project from the fiery depths of Procrastination. :P ** 


	16. Spiders and ransom

**Holy crap, you guys. Okay, I don't know what else to say but I'm sorry? Jeez, did I get some HATE mail from that last chapter.....don't hate me!!!! This is how the story is going, I can't help it. I just write it how it happens. This may sound strange, but maybe some of you know how it feels....I basically have no say in the way the story goes. I only write it. Make sense? I know it doesn't. But that's just how it is. Like the saying goes, Don't kill the messenger? Yeah. Don't yell at me. Let me just console you in the fact that....well, I can't console you. Just wait until I write the damn thing and then read it. K? Okay. BTW, 'premonition' is pronounced 'preh-mo-nition'. At least, that's how I say it.**  
  
"How could this have happened?" my dad asked for the umpteenth time. Our apartment was full of police and C.S.I. officers, officials of every kind. I was curled up on the couch, Nick on one side and Gwen on the other, Jay sitting next to her. I hadn't spoken to anyone for three hours, since we got home. I could only stare at the floor. "Why would someone do this?"  
  
"Sir, we're not sure if it was a murder or not," said a man in a black suit. I looked up. "There are signs of struggle, but none of death. We're leaning towards a kidnapping." I felt a tiny bit of hope. I stood up and glanced at my friends.  
  
"Let's go," I said quietly. I led them back to my room, where everyone sprawled out where they could. I threw myself onto my bed, burying my face in the fluffy pillows. Someone pat me on the back.  
  
"Things'll be all right, Jessi," said Nick. My leg moved slightly as he sat down next to me. I looked up at him blearily.  
  
"You don't know, though," I said stonily. I pushed myself into a sitting position, with a cold look. "She could be dead. Or she could be tied up somewhere with a gun to her head. Either way, she's not here. If she's been kidnapped, then I have to get her back." Nick looked skeptical, but Gwen was worried.  
  
"Jessi, you can't go-," Gwen started.  
  
"Yes, I can," I said. I was surprised at the steel in my voice. "And I will." Nick frowned.  
  
"Jessi, you are a sixteen-year-old girl," said Nick firmly. "I don't want you to go out and try anything stupid." I glared at him, feeling unrationally angry.  
  
"What do you mean, I'm a sixteen-year-old girl?" I snarled. I stood up, noted the worried look passed between Jay and Gwen. "I'm perfectly able, BY myself, to rescue her, and anyone else." My dad entered the room then. He took in the scene: me standing next to the bed with my fists balled up, Gwen looking frightened in a bean bag chair, Nick wearing a concerned expression.  
  
"Jess, I think maybe it's time for your friends to go home," he said. There was a tone in his voice that made me think he wanted to talk to me in private. He raised an eyebrow, and everyone started to get up.  
  
"No," I said suddenly. They froze. "I don't want them to leave yet. Let's go to your room. I'll be back in a sec, guys," I told them, then led my dad into the hall and to his bedroom.  
  
"What's up?" I asked, perching myself on the edge of his bed. He rubbed a hand over his face tiredly.  
  
"They really think it's a kidnapping," he said. He started to pace, then looked at me seriously. "Jessi, I have a strong feeling that this has to do with me. Us; you know, what we are." I felt a bolt of shock. That had to be it. I hadn't thought of it before, but that had to be what was going on. I nodded. "Now, there's got to be a ransom note somewhere. Have you found anything like that?" I shook my head. "Where it is will be a clue to who they're trying to affect. My first instinct is that it's me, but they could be after you too. You've joined the family business, sport, where accepting the identity of Spiderman makes you a lot of enemies." I nodded, not knowing what to say. There was a silence, then I got up.  
  
"I'm just gonna lock myself in my room for a while, okay?" I said. Before he could answer, I was down the hall and in my doorway. Everyone was quiet as I entered the room. Nick walked over to me.  
  
"Jessi, I've got to get home," he said apologetically. "I'll see you at school tomorrow, or call you later, okay?" I nodded. We hugged each other, and he kissed me on the cheek. I tried not to show my surprise. He smiled at me, then left the room, Jay following closely. Gwen eyed me suspiciously.  
  
"My dad says he thinks it has something to do with the Spiderman thing," I whispered. I flopped down onto my bed. "Someone seeking revenge. I was just thinking though. How did the kidnapper know? I mean, he must have known my dad was who he was, or he wouldn't have targeted my mother like that." She gave me a weak smile.  
  
"This is too weird Jess," she said nervously. I made a face and picked up my book. A note fell out of it. With surprisingly steady hands, I picked up the envelope reading Jessica Parker across the front. I exchanged horrified stares with Gwen, then proceeded to open it. A small letter was contained inside. I took it out and unfolded it, revealing a fancy script:  
  
Ms. Parker,  
  
I regret to inform you that upon learning your identity, I was forced to have my associates accompany your mother, one Mary Jane Parker, to a secluded and highly guarded location. I wish to meet you at the following place, on Friday the Thirteenth of October, at ten o' clock.  
  
An address was listed, one I recognized as an abandoned museum on the upper West Side. I realized I was grinding my teeth together, and stopped to prevent further damage. I continued to read:  
  
Please do invite your father, as it will be a most welcome reunion. If you choose to not show up, or if you bring anyone other than yourself and your father, I will be, unfortunately, forced to dispose of Mrs. Parker in a most undesirable fashion. I am looking forward to our rendezvous.  
  
My whole body shook violently at the next few words, and Gwen came over to comfort me. When she read the letter, she let out a cry and dropped it on the bed. The words still loomed out at me, in bright emerald green ink:  
  
THE GREEN GOBLIN LIVES  
  
Gwen's shout had drawn my dad's attention. He burst into the room. It looked as though he had been tearing out his hair. His face was haggard, but calm. I held out the paper to him, trembling. He took it, turning a pasty white. I saw his eyes set on the last phrase. He glanced at me. I held back tears, and nodded. My training had just begun. 


	17. Full after Empty

**AHHHHHH I am sooooooo so sorry you guys. I can't even remember the last time I updated, but I was banned from the computer until the end of the school year. Anywayz, now that it's vacation I'm bored so I'll be updating every day. Again, I AM SORRY!!!!!!!!!**  
  
"I want to help you guys," said Gwen firmly, holding the door open with her foot. My dad had tried to make her leave, and she had been reluctant, but hadn't said anything until now. My dad looked surprised.  
  
"You can't get involved," he said firmly. "It's not safe-"  
  
"I don't care!" she said vehemently. Her face turned pink. "With all due respect Mr. Parker, Jessi is my best friend, and I would do anything for her. I want to help, even if it's in a small way, though I would prefer a big way..." She trailed off. It was really touching that Gwen would say that for me, but I knew my dad was right. Gwen could not get directly involved, or she could get hurt.  
  
"Gwen, I know you want to help Jessi," he said, smothering a smile. "But it would be most helpful if you could just keep the secret. We don't want to have another close friend kidnapped, do we?" The tone was joking, but I squirmed at the truth in the seams of it. If Gwen got involved, she could very well be abducted by this Green Goblin fanatic. A sudden idea formed in my head. I grabbed Gwen's arm, thinking of the phrase the had just crossed through my mind.  
  
"Gwen," I said, a smile growing on my face. "I know how you can help. Seams of truth..." I was muttering to myself now. I must have looked completely insane. I looked at them, shaking my arms for emphasis. "Seams! Don't you see? Dad, you may have a 'uniform', but what about me? I can't just go there in jeans and a t-shirt. And if I went to a tailor asking for a spandex Spiderman costume, they might have me arrested." I looked at Gwen. Her eyes grew wide with understanding.  
  
"Oh!" she said ecstatically. We gripped each other's arms, squealing.  
  
"Mr. Parker, Jessi is saying that I can make her costume!" said Gwen to my dad. He took on a thoughtful air.  
  
"I suppose that would be safe," he said slowly. He frowned at us. "That's all though, right? Gwen's not gonna try and help you when you go out." His voice was warning, but we weren't listening anymore. Gwen was muttering to herself about patterns and the difficulty of stretchy fabrics, and I was complaining about wedgies while really thinking of my acrophobia.  
  
"Dad, I'm kinda freaked about my thing with heights," I told him suddenly. He looked bewildered.  
  
"Wedgies to heights," he said tiredly. "You two are exhausting. Don't worry. You'll gain confidence with experience." I raised an eyebrow, but didn't argue. He really did look tired. Then I realized, it wasn't for sure that my mother was safe at present, and my dad was worried. I pushed aside my selfish thoughts, feeling ashamed, and started to worry. About everything. 


	18. The Corny Twist

**LOL I am so sorry you guys. I got bored with where this fic was going, so I took the twist. I let myself fall into temptation, and took the corny twist. I'm so sorry if you don't like it, but.it's so stupid it's funny. Oh well. **  
  
The next day at school everyone was very sullen, and I felt bad that it was on my account. I tried to lighten the mood with stupid joking comments, but nothing helped. At lunch, we all sat around our usual table in silence. I was poking at a grilled cheese sandwich that was probably older than I am when I heard snickering voices walking past our table. Looking up, I saw they belonged to Kate and her gang. I stared at her as she passed, giggling and sending looks at Nick. She caught his eye once and his neck flushed. Usually I would have brushed it off as the daily crap she gave all of us, but something was different; something, I percieved, had happened with her and Nick.  
  
"Is something wrong?" I asked suddenly. "I mean, I thought you guys were being reverent to my mother at first, but.something else happened, didn't it." There was no response. I stared at Nick until he met my eyes. My stomach clenched to see the look on his face. He stared intently at his lunch tray. But still, no one said anything. Then, Jay spoke quietly.  
  
"I saw your locker, Nick," he said slowly. Nick's jaw clenched; he rose abruptly and left the table.  
  
"I saw it too," blurted Gwen at once. "Completely trashed. And a note from someone."  
  
"His kid sister's in the hospital," whispered Jay. "She was attacked yesterday." I barely heard these things, though. I got up quickly and backed away from the table, following Nick's trail. It wasn't what I had heard, but what I had seen. When only moments before they were perfectly normal looking, the fork and spoon on Nick's lunch tray were now melted and welded into nothing but twisted plastic.  
  
"Nick!" I called. He was nowhere to be found. I frowned. Where could he have gone so quickly. I folded my arms, feeling strange. Something odd was going on.  
  
"I guess you haven't learned yet, have you?" came a sneering voice behind me.  
  
"Get a life, Katelyn," I said, turning around to face her. She smirked at me.  
  
"Get a clue, Jessica," she said spitefully. "And you also might want to get a leash. He doesn't behave unless-"  
  
"Knock it off," I snapped. Don't lose your temper, I told myself. "I'm not apt to using any of your methods, now am I?"  
  
"Well, why is that?" she asked sweetly. "Mine are as good as any, I would think."  
  
"Correct me if I'm wrong," I said, with much self-control, "But it doesn't seem that they've worked very well." Kate froze. I had hit the spot. She turned livid and stared at me for a moment, then slammed back through the cafeteria doors. I would've felt satisfaction if I could feel anything but premonition. I saw Nick at the top of Lady Liberty, and that was enough to overwhelm my senses with absolute terror. He was going to be taken too, just like my mother. I fled the school and ran down the sidewalk. Suddenly, I realized that there was a faster way to get to the ferry port than running. I glanced down at my wrist, then did exactly as my dad had showed me; aim at something, catch it once it's taken hold, then swing. And he was right; heights had no effect on me. And it was easy. I felt a bit absurd the first few times, swinging from a web that I had just shot out of my wrist, but that was overcome by the exhilaration. This was so awesome! I reached the port in half the time it would even have taken to call a cab. I made sure to land in an alley so that no one would question me. I found the speed of the ferry to Ellis Island frustrating compared to my new way of travel. I practically murdered an old woman leaping off the ramp when we finally did land. I looked around; there was a relatively small amount of people here, since it was a weekday. I looked up to see if Nick was at the top. I saw nothing. For the first time since I had the premonition, I felt uncertain about it. I couldn't be sure about the time, or what exactly had been happening, only of what my first instinct about it was. To hell with it all, I thought stubbornly. If I can't trust myself, who can I trust?  
  
Then I heard the voices. "It was so strange," said one. "Like something had jumped up and down once above us."  
  
"That's impossible," said the companion. "Nothin' up there but sky, and Liberty's hair." There were chuckles and teases, I'm sure, but I was climbing up the Lady's backside by then. I climbed as fast as I could; I couldn't be sure that Nick was okay until I saw it for myself. I reached the top so quickly that I almost passed it up. I hopped into the air a bit and landed with a clang. It was so windy, I thought I might be blown away, so I stayed in a crouching position, my hands sticking fast to the cold metal. I looked up sharply and saw Nick, alone. He snapped his head around, and I saw his jaw drop. I shifted my gaze around, looking for his kidnappers, but my stomach went cold when I didn't see any. I realized then.Nick had gotten up there by himself. He was standing on the Statue of Liberty's head in the same manner as though he were on any sidewalk in New York. I stood up slowly, trying not to sway, and walked toward him.  
  
"What are you doing up here?" I asked. He gawked at me.  
  
"What do you mean, what am I doing up here?" he replied, stuttering with the cold and awe. "Why are you here? And how did you know I was here?"  
  
"I,er." I didn't know how to reply. I evaded the question. "I asked you first."  
  
"Don't play that with me Jessi," he said grumpily.  
  
"Wait, are we completely alone up here?" I asked abruptly. "You came here by yourself?" He nodded, bewildered. "Well, then.how.why.Nick, tell me something!" I blustered.  
  
"What do you want to hear, Jessi?" he asked quietly. "Because if you want to hear what I think you want to hear, then I think you know I can't tell you that."  
  
"Why?" I asked.  
  
"To keep you safe." His voice was barely audible. I smiled slightly.  
  
"I don't think you have to worry about my safety as much as I have to worry about yours," I told him absently. His head, which had been assisting his eyes in avoiding me, snapped up.  
  
"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked, looking at me intently. "What have you got to keep me safe from? Trust me, I've got a lot more weight on my shoulders than it appears." I glared at him.  
  
"What makes you think I don't?" I shouted. "Don't presume that you have more importance in this city than other people do." I thought maybe I wasn't making any sense, but I figured later I could pass it off as a mental breakdown. In my head, I was thinking of my new super-heroine obligations; I had no idea how close to my thoughts Nick's were. I glared at Nick like a crazy person, but he seemed to really be trying to find some meaning in what I had said.  
  
"Are you saying you have obligations to this city?" he asked. I felt strange. It was like we both knew what the other was talking about, but we didn't know that the other understood what we were saying. My head was beginning to hurt. "Are you saying that the people who live there depend on you for something?"  
  
"Yeah, that's what I'm saying," I said tiredly. I sat down suddenly. I saw Nick put a hand to his head. I sensed that he was whispering something, and my ears perked up.  
  
".to save them," I heard him say. I got a funny feeling in my stomach, and proceeded to do the stupidest thing I had ever done in my life.  
  
I jumped up, marched over to Nick, and yanked him around to face me. His eyes opened wide with surprise.  
  
"Look at this," I said angrily. A small alarm siren was going off in my head, but I ignored it. I pulled up the sleeve of my jacket and showed Nick the hole. He looked at it, then looked at me.  
  
"Oh, Jessi," he said sadly. He misinterpreted the source of the hole, though. "Did you hurt yourself on purpose?"  
  
"Of course not," I said hastily. "I didn't put a hole in my arm. And it's not just an ordinary thing. Watch." I spun a web out between two of the crown's spikes and turned back to Nick. "My dad was Spiderman. Genetically mutated, passed his genes down to me. That's how I broke the lock on the door, that's how I fought Margie and won.and I'm pretty sure it was the cause of my new, er.boldness." Nick smiled slightly, then sat down suddenly. I caught his arm so we wouldn't make any more noise. Then I realized that the stupid alarm had been right. I shouldn't have told Nick; he would be in more danger now than he had been in before.  
  
"I'm sorry Nick," I said quickly. I thought I might cry. "I shouldn't have- "  
  
"No," he said weakly. He stood up. "It's not that. Jessi stop, get away." I moved away from him, bewildered. He caught his breath for a moment, then stood up, good as new. He looked me over for a second.  
  
"Aha!" he said finally. I stared at him stupidly. He grinned. "Take that necklace out of your pocket." I frowned.  
  
"I don't have a.oh," I said, reaching into my pocket. There was a silver necklace with some sort of stone at the end. An emerald? I made to give it to Nick, but he put his hand up.  
  
"No," he said. "Throw it. As hard as you can." I was surprised, but I did as he said.  
  
"Okay," he said, taking a deep breath. "We need to talk, obviously. But let's get down from here." We stood silently for a few seconds.  
  
"Do you, er, need any help?" I asked him. I couldn't see any way he would be able to get down. He laughed surprisedly.  
  
"No, I'm good," he said. "Um.do you need any help?" I grinned.  
  
"I told you my secret," I said, ignoring the panic I felt at this statement. "What do you think?" He laughed uncertainly.  
  
"Yeah," he agreed. "But I can assure you, my way is faster." I peered at him suspiciously, then nodded.  
  
"All right," I said slowly. "Go ahead." He approached me, grasped me firmly in his arms, and shot into the sky.  
  
"Oh. My. God," I said, closing my eyes. I heard Nick's deep laugh.  
  
"Yeah, pretty cool, huh?" he said wryly. I opened my eyes and took a huge gulp of coffee. We were in a corner coffee shop, talking.  
  
"This isn't real," I said, not knowing what the purpose of my saying so was. "It can't be. It's too weird. Impossible. Like a movie, or something. I don't know, but it's just." I trailed off.  
  
"I know, I know," said Nick in agreement. "Spidergirl meets Superboy."  
  
"But wait," I said, "I thought 'Superman' was from a different planet." Nick snickered.  
  
"You haven't met my dad," he said, snorting. "He's that weird."  
  
"This whole thing is so." I searched for the right word. "Ludicrous! It's like some stupid.er, comic book." There was a silence, then we both burst into laughter. Everything about what was happening was so ridiculous, I thought I might go insane.  
  
"So, somehow, some fanatic of your dad's old arch-enemy got wind of you and your dad's true identities and kidnapped your mother?" he asked, wiping his eyes. I turned solemn.  
  
"Yeah," I replied, calming myself. "And we're supposed to meet them in an abandoned building to do.well, I don't know. It's so cliché, and so stupid."  
  
"I'd like to help you, if that's okay," he said cautiously. I started to protest, but he stopped me. "Before you protest, just think about it. I'd be just one more person on your side. You don't know what you're up against, and you don't know that you can get your mom back by yourself." I sat quiet for a few moments, then sighed.  
  
"I know the technical aspects of what you're saying are true," I told him. "But I don't want you to get involved in this unnecessarily. I don't want you to get hurt."  
  
"Listen, whatever obligations we have," said Nick, "as.er.superheros.we also have duties to each other. In order for you to help people in this city, you and your loved ones have to be safe, or else you won't be in the right position to help others. Your mind won't be on the job. Agreed?" I nodded. "And if you are vital to helping the people of this city, and my purpose is to help the people, then I am obliged to help you. Right?"  
  
"Ow," I moaned, rubbing my temples. Nick kicked me under the table. "Ow," I said, serious this time. "Okay, okay, you're right. You talk a lot, but you're right. You can help, but if it gets life-and-death, then you have to promise me you'll get out."  
  
"Let's go," said Nick. He stood up and slapped some money on the table, then started walking out. I stumbled out behind him.  
  
"Nick! Stop," I said, catching up to him. I stood in front of him, blocking his pathway. "Promise me." He laughed and shook his head.  
  
"Jessi, I'm not going to do that," he responded, and tried to walk around me. I stepped in front of him again.  
  
"I'm serious!" I said stubbornly. "I-"  
  
"So am I," he replied. And he kissed me. Right there. On the sidewalk, spontaneously, no warning, no signs leading up to it. I felt a shock go through me and hit my stomach. Just as soon as he had done it, it was over. I opened my eyes. He was gone. 


	19. Developements in the Play

I grinned stupidly to myself, feeling like a foolish little girl. Out of everything that had happened to me in the recent past, my mother being kidnapped, finding out I had superpowers, finding out that my friend did too, nothing more was on my mind than the fact that Nick had just kissed me. I felt bold, unstoppable. I tried thinking of a plan to regain my mom, but the kiss just kept coming back to me. I forced myself to think of school. There was fifteen minutes left in fifth period; it was pointless to go to that class. I decided I would just go home, but then remembered.  
  
"Oh my gosh!" I said out loud. I started running. I had completely forgotten about the play.  
  
"Right on the bell, Miss Parker," said Mrs. White blandly. I panted slightly and nodded, crossing the room to sit next to Gwen on the floor. She looked as though she would burst with questions, but managed to hold herself in check.  
  
"Now, all parts have been cast," said Mrs. White, glancing at her clipboard. "Everyone's here.let's get cracking!" We divided into groups by importance of character. Ophelia barely made it into the top group, but at least I was with Gwen. I expected her to interrogate me about what had happened with Nick, but she became professional very quickly. I glanced around at the others in our group: Toby Quince, who played Claudius; Robbie Stevens, who played Horatio; JP Chong, who played Laertes; Rory Smith, who played Polonius. I frowned. Everyone was muttering lines to themselves.  
  
"Hey guys, who's Hamlet?" I asked. They stopped and looked up. "I mean.where is he?"  
  
"You mean you don't know?" Toby asked quizzically.  
  
"Um.I don't even know who got the part, how would I know where he is?" Gwen shot me a surprised glance.  
  
"He didn't tell you?" she said, puzzled. I made a noise of frustration.  
  
"Obviously not," I replied crossly. She smirked, but still looked confused.  
  
"Gwen said that you-," JP started to say. Gwen cut him off.  
  
"If any of us would know, it would be you Jess," she said seriously. "You saw him last."  
  
"Gwen, why would he not tell me?" I asked angrily. She buried her nose in script as Mrs. White approached, ready to mark our progress.  
  
"Practice, Jessica," muttered Gwen out of the side of her mouth. I glanced at Rory; he looked deeply engrossed in his Scene Three lines.  
  
"He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders of his affection to me," I said loudly. Rory looked up, bewildered.  
  
"Affection! pooh!" he replied, grinning. He set his script on the chair next to him and approached me. Polonius threw me an accusatory look. "You speak like a green girl, unsifted in such perilous circumstance. Do you believe his tenders, as you call them?"he demanded. Mrs. White looked at me for confirmation.  
  
I rolled my eyes with mock innocence. "I do not know, my lord, what I should think." Mrs. White whistled.  
  
"Impressive. Keep it up," she said shortly, and passed us. We all held our breath until she was out of earshot. Gwen let out a huge laugh.  
  
"Holy crap, Jessi," she breathed. "I didn't even see you look at your script, much less study it."  
  
"Photographic memory," I said. "So Nick's Hamlet. Where the hell is he?" They all rolled their eyes.  
  
"Stop asking the same questions, Jessi," said Robbie. "We already told you. Nick gets the lead in the play every year. You were the last person who saw him. We haven't heard from him since you did. WE DON'T KNOW WHERE HE IS."  
  
"He's right here," came a voice from behind me. I whirled around. Nick stood as though he had been there the whole time. I glared, then smiled.  
  
"To speak of horrors - he comes before me," I said sarcastically. Rory perked up.  
  
"Mad for thy love?" he recited. Nick turned beet red.  
  
"Sorry I'm late," he muttered. I placed my script delicately on top of Rory's.  
  
"Excuse me," I said, and walked over to the costume designers, who were sketching out their ideas.  
  
"That looks beautiful," I told one. She smiled at me. I was aware of Nick standing in the dark of the curtain next to me.  
  
"I don't understand why you didn't tell me," I remarked, running my fingers over various fabrics. He stepped out of the shadows.  
  
"I figured you would have known." he said hopelessly. I smoothed a wrinkle in the linen viciously.  
  
"Oh yes, your reputation reaches SO many people, why not count myself one of them?" I snapped. He looked abashed.  
  
"I didn't mean-," he started to say. I recovered myself.  
  
"I know," I said quickly. I braced my arms on an abandoned work desk. "It's only that.you knew I was Ophelia.and finding out that you have such apathy for the same thing that I was so excited for.I don't know," I ended lamely. "Maybe I don't like being reminded that you're better than me," I added quietly. Nick grabbed my arm and made me turn around.  
  
"What is THAT supposed to mean?" he demanded. I shook my head.  
  
"Nothing, I didn't say anything," I replied. I stared at the desk; Nick tried to make me look at him.  
  
"Cut it out," I told him. He took my face with both hands and stared at me. I blinked surprisedly.  
  
"Not until you stop being mad at me," he said pointedly. I glared.  
  
"That'll take some work," I said. I put my hands on his and pushed down, but he wouldn't let go. I stared at him, trying to make him uncomfortable.  
  
"What do you want?" he asked finally. I looked at him for a moment.  
  
"I want very much," I said quietly, "for you to let go of my face."  
  
He grinned and did so. "Okay, you win this time," he said, grabbing his script. "Shall we go practice our lines?"  
  
"Yes, I think we shall," I sighed. "Oh, and Nick?" He looked back curiously.  
  
I smiled sweetly. "I always win." 


End file.
